Fires of Home
by ividia
Summary: post TCOR - Called by Shirah, Riddick returns to Furya.    Rating for language and anything else that might happen.
1. Chapter 1

Masala's eyes flew open, confusion shining in them as she gazed out at the curve of the planet before her. Then she remembered. Home. She was finally headed home after so much time away. She sat forward, eyes scanning the instruments for her location. Yes, this was the right place, the right coordinates. All she had to do now was take her ship downward, through the atmosphere and land. She studied the planet before her, a tendril of doubt and worry snaking into her thoughts. She had been away a long time. Things had undoubtedly changed. The Necros had been here she had heard, slaughtered her people, destroyed her world.

And yet the Seer had called her home. It was five years ago when she started having the visions again. She tried to resist, but the call was too strong. She knew she must answer, must heed the call to return to the world she had been sent away from by that same Seer. She sighed and ran a hand over the rows of braids keeping her hair back from her face. There had been something else in those visions too, or rather someone else. She closed her eyes and tried to recall who else had been there, but it would not come. She only had the impression of silvery double moons hanging in a dark sky.

She shook her head as if to clear the thoughts and remembered visions clouding her mind. Her hands began moving over the controls, angling the ship to enter the atmosphere, programming in coordinates of the city where she once lived. The canopy darkened as the entry burn lit up the small ship. She waited until the autopilot leveled her out in the true atmosphere then resumed manual control.

There was no communication challenging her right to be there. She had not truly expected one but had hoped. She slowed her ship's speed and dropped altitude to a point to where she could see the surface. The planet itself seemed to have recovered from the Necros brutal attack even if the people had not. The ship skimmed several meters above a vast ocean then came to major land mass in the southern hemisphere. Her city was not far from its western shore.

The horror overcame her as she saw the remnants of what had been Etna, the capital city which had once teemed with life. Her fists clenched on the controls. There was one structure that seemed to remain and she aimed her craft for it. As she drew closer she saw that it was a mausoleum. She flew over it and circled, her eyes seeing the hundreds of thousands of graves. She released a shuddering breath and altered her course once more, this time towards what had been the northern limits of the city.

As she passed over the streets and decrepit buildings, she recalled how it had looked in her youth, before she had been sent away. She still remembered vividly the place she had called home. The vibrant, bustling marketplace that butted up against the spaceport and once offered goods and entertainment to travelers from across the universe but now lay silent and empty. The circular depressions where Training Centres had been, where all Furyans learned their craft from the time they could walk. The Guild Halls of the Armors and Weapons Smiths also lay in ruins, the structures obliterated. The places that had been homes were only slightly less damaged, only because their profiles were lower. Other than the mausoleum, not a single whole building could be seen.

Her chest felt tight, and her eyes stung. A deep aching, pain never before felt grew in her breast. Drawing breath was difficult. She triggered the autopilot once more and leaned back in the seat, trying to fathom the utter loss of everything she had known. It was not that she had not seen the news vids, but it had been so long ago she had not realized the extent of the destruction. It was markedly different when it was your own home world instead of someone else's. Furyans laid waste to other places. It was what they did, what they had been engineered for, to be the soldiers, to fight the battles that others could not or would not. They were not on the receiving end, and yet, here before her was absolute proof that it had happened to them.

The ship touched down at the coordinates she had fed it and began the engine shut down. It pinged at her, and she automatically entered the commands to display the status messages from the preprogrammed landing routines. She watched the data as it scrolled across the screen, everything reporting green, no issues found. She registered the information absently, still staring out the cockpit window at what had once been her home.

Finally rousing herself, she swiveled the piloting chair about and pushed to her feet. Two steps took her into the largest part of her small ship. She stretched and limbered up, checking the seat of each one of her blades, both hidden and not, as she did so. Next she adjusted the low slung quick draw hip holsters that held her twin blasters. Then she opened a long narrow compartment and pulled a disassembled long barreled rifle from it along with a bandolier of rounds. It took no more than a minute for the rifle to be reassembled and slung across her back.

Another two steps aft and she was at the hatch and palming it open. She took a deep breath before walking down the ramp and setting foot on the planet she had not seen in more than thirty years, Furya. She half expected another vision or a feeling, something, but there was nothing but the sun and the wind. Any animals that might have been present had been frightened into silence by her ship's arrival.

She walked out from the ship a ways, her boots crunching on the hard ground, eyes scanning the surrounding area. Her destination was the remains of a house about fifteen meters away. Even though it was no longer visibly marked, she followed the gently winding path to where the front door had once stood and reverently stepped over the threshold. The old stone hearth that had been the centerpiece of her family home seemed nothing more than a mound of rocks surrounded by tall weeds.

Within the week, the area that had been the main room was cleared of overgrowth and the hearth was back in working order. She had located nearby avian nests and eggs as well as taken down some small game. The garden, though untended, had somewhat survived, offering up edible ground roots and herbs. In another stroke of good fortune, the low water pump only needed a bit of grease, both motor and elbow, before it began working.

She had a stew cooking over a fire in the hearth when she saw what she thought at first was a shooting star. The supposed meteor banked in the sky then flew over her head. She watched it go by and fly over the same cemetery she had upon arrival. The other craft came back and circled her location before landing a distance away. She was set and peering through the scope of her rifle at the hatch of the ship as it opened.

Riddick had left the Necros behind to tear themselves apart with internal power struggles. He wanted no part of it and needed no army. He was on his own again, alone, the way he preferred it. Imam and Kyra were both dead, and so any ties or pull he might have felt to 'rejoin the human race', as Carolyn had put it, were gone. Aereon had lifted the bounty on him by paying it to him. Her reasoning was that he had, essentially, brought himself in. He was not about to turn down a mil-five in credits. That would take a special kind of stupid or noble, and he was neither of those things. It afforded him a decent ship and the ability to outfit it as he saw fit as well as buy a registry not attached to anything directly linked to him. That should throw off any mercs looking for the big pay day off his neck, at least for a bit. There were still slams offering bounties on him.

Aereon and the others on Helion Prime had asked him to stay, to help rebuild their army. He had laughed at that, a deep booming laugh. It was hard to say which had been more amusing, the offer or the fact they thought he would actually accept it. He declined, in no uncertain terms, "Fuck that."

He stayed around long enough to give Kyra a proper send off and get his ship outfitted. Then he segued into anonymity, at least as much as a man like him could. He maintained his relative obscurity in comfort for awhile. Then the visions and the woman in them returned, calling him home she said.

_She approached him from out of the same twilight graveyard as before. "You have avenged our people. Now we need to rebuild our world. Come home to Furya. Find the Blade of Furya. The Blade will guide you. Furya will be great once again."_

He sat staring out the view screen for a long time after the vision faded. He let out a growl and entered the coordinates for Furya. It was not like he had anything better to do. He put himself into cryo for the journey and woke to the sight of a planet he had no recollection of ever being on although he did have an odd sense of déjà vu.

He took the craft down into the atmosphere at a small angle and moderate speed. This gave him time to observe the topography below, his keen eyes and intellect noting everything. It would have been nice if the woman in the vision had given him coordinates or a starting point smaller than an entire planet.

His scanners picked up the presence of another ship. He changed directions for an intersecting vector. The instrumentation showed it as a small single person craft with no heat signature from the engines. He gave it only a cursory glance as a sight ahead of him caught his attention. It was the only standing structure visible. During the fly by he saw that it was mostly undamaged and stood in the center of an enormous graveyard, the one from the visions.

He turned his ship around and headed back to where he had spotted the other ship. He circled the location once, taking note of the heat signatures. One was man size and moving about. The other was stationary and hotter, possibly a fire. He landed downwind and half a click away. As he opened the hatch, the wind brought him the scent of cooking food, gunpowder, machine oil, leather and sweat. He turned into the wind and caught the glint of light of a reflective surface. He raised his arms in question.

The person stood from their vantage point, jumped to the ground and began walking towards him. He observed for a moment before walking out to meet what had to be a woman. Most men did not move like that. And he had yet to see a man shaped that way. Still, she moved with the air of one confident they could handle any and all comers.

The reflection had to have come from the weapon slung over her shoulder. He counted two more guns and a half-dozen blades and was certain there were more unseen. Her clothing was not all that different from his, utilitarian and dark. Her hair was woven into braids much like the woman in the vision but it was not her. This woman had darker skin and hair. She was taller and more heavily muscled.


	2. Chapter 2

A man appeared there, a big man dressed in black. She used the scope to inspect him at distance, from his spacer's boots to the top of his bald head. She saw the hilts of the boot knives and the subtle rises in fabric evidencing more blades secreted about his person. As her view traveled up to his head, he turned his dark goggles towards her and raised his arms as if to say, 'Well, are you going to take the shot?'

She sat back in surprise, then stood and slung the rifle over her shoulder. She jumped down from her perch on the half crumbled wall and began trekking towards the man and the ship. He met her halfway. They circled, like two predatory animals sizing each other up and sniffing at each other. They saw the obvious weapons and the hints of other weapons, the way each of them moved with a stealth and grace and confidence that most did not. The primary thing that each noticed though was the glowing outline of a handprint above the scooped neckline of their shirts. They were Furyans, both of them.

She spoke first, though her voice was rough and dry with disuse. "She called to you."

It was half statement, half question. He nodded but said nothing, his expression unreadable and eyes unseen behind the dark lenses of his goggles. There was something in his stance and the way he observed everything that gave rise to another question.

"You don't remember being here on Furya do you?"

"No," he said, his voice a low rumble even with that one word.

"It was a thriving world when I last saw it," she told him, an unreleased sigh in her tone before changing the direction of the conversation. "I have a meal cooking if you would like some. There is also fresh water available."

She turned and began walking towards her camp assuming he would follow…or not. He did. Back at the camp, she checked the stew and found it near ready then began digging around near one of the crumbled walls and came up with two undamaged bowls. She used reeds and water to scrub them clean before pouring stew into them. She handed one to her guest who had found a seat on a pile of brick.

"I don't have any spoons or what not," she told him.

He pulled a shiv and used it to eat with. Her mouth crooked up in a half smile as she pulled a blade of her own for the same purpose. After a few bites, he said, "It's good."

"Thank you," she replied. "My name is Masala. Yours?"

"Riddick."

She sat up straight at that, her eyebrows rising. "As in Richard B.?"

His head tilted a bit, and his grip shifted on the shiv.

"I'll take that as a yes. You being Furyan explains a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"We're always the best at what we do. It's what we were made for," she said, setting her bowl aside. "You have almost as many confirmed kills as I do. The only difference is I get paid to do it."

"An assassin?"

It was her turn to just nod.

"Any good?"

She just smiled.

He accepted that for the answer it was and changed the subject.

"What is she?"

There was only one 'she' he could be asking about.

"We call her the Seer. She…Shirah is a priestess of Furya and…something more," she said, then offered a shrug. "I was never good at the metaphysical stuff. She hasn't aged if the visage in the visions is accurate but that can be easily explained by cryo."

She didn't sound entirely convinced.

"What does she want?"

"Fuck if I know. I tried to ignore her, but it's hard to ignore voices in your head. "

"You said before you last saw this world when it was thriving."

She nodded again.

"It was destroyed thirty-five years ago."

"Yeah, it was."

He looked around curiously when no further explanation was offered. "What is this place?"

"It used to be the house I lived in until I was sent off-world."

"Sent?"

"By her. Something about destiny and prophecy, said I would understand when the time came."

"Do you?"

"Apparently it isn't time yet. Do you have a shower in that ship of yours?"

"Yes."

"Can I use it?"

His face turned towards her ship. She answered the unspoken question. "I had to take it out to add more engine and life support capacity to maintain the cryo for the entire trip here. I was out a ways."

He held up the empty bowl in his hand, the corner of his mouth turned up. "In exchange for the food?"

"No," she shook her head with a wry grin. "For that you can catch and cook the next meal."

"What kind of game?"

"Mostly avian and small mammal around here. The prey gets larger closer to those mountains. So do the non-biped predators."

He filed that information away as he stood. He set the bowl by the hearth and turned towards her, asking, "What's in it for me, then?"

Something in his tone gave her pause, and she looked at him again, this time from a different perspective. It was not that she had not noticed that he was attractive, rather that she had not allowed herself to be distracted by it. She had seen that he was as much of a predator as she was. Now that she knew who he was, she thought perhaps even more so. She rose and stalked towards him, her head held in a way reminiscent of the big cats of old earth.

She sniffed at him, her gaze traveling over his body, the muscles of his chest and arms, the line of his shoulders, the smooth skin of his shaved head and face. His scent was all male musk under the leather and cloth. There was a touch of something more. She stopped and inhaled deeply trying to place it, a spice like pepper, used in small amounts as too much and it would burn you. It seemed appropriate.

She thought she knew what he was hinting at, but she could have misread it entirely or he could be fucking with her. She stepped closer and spoke again, her voice dropping into a lower register, a hint of warning there, "What did you have in mind?"

He watched her with his other senses as much as his eyes, his nostrils flaring to catch her scent as she came closer and circled him. She stood a little over 1.6 meters and was about 72.5 kilos of solid muscle with curves in all the right places. She smelled of leather and steel, gunpowder and oil and under it all the heady scent of cinnamon and cloves. She had come full circle and stood in front of him again.

The words that came out of his mouth were not the intended ones. "I need to find a Furyan blade."

Confusion flashed through her eyes and, perhaps, disappointment as she took a step back and turned away. "I doubt there are any left. I can't imagine any that weren't destroyed being left behind or scavenged."

"Hmmm…Shirah seemed to think at least one survived," he rumbled.

She whirled to face him, her gaze intense. "What, exactly, did she say about this blade?"

"Find the Blade of Furya. The Blade will guide you."

Muttering curses under her breath, she moved quickly to scoop up dirt and smother the fire. She hefted a small pack to her shoulder as well as the rifle and a full water skin. Her irritation was plain when she faced him once again. "Come on, then. Let's go see Shirah. I'll tell you about the Blade on the way."

The eyebrows above his goggles rose.

"Your choice, of course, but she'll get insistent, and that tends to be ….irritating."

Masala moved towards him again, this time with her hand up looking so much like a darker version of Shirah. Her jaw tightened as she placed her hand directly over the handprint on his chest. The pulse that passed between them was like a jarring jolt of blue lightning that flashed across her outstretched arm and surrounded both of them. And, just as quickly as it was gone, Riddick had trapped her hand and had a shiv at her jugular.

"What the fuck was that?" he growled.

She leaned in to the shiv, letting it bite into her skin and draw blood. "We are Furyan Alphas. Shirah calls us. The longer we wait, the worse it will get. "

They stared each other down for several long seconds until he released her. The shiv vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he indicated the former road. "Lead on."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to prettytightkid and ChildOfFury93 for their words of encouragement.

* * *

She pivoted and began the trek towards the graveyard. It was a long trek, but she needed the time. The time to wrap her brain around what she suspected Shirah was trying to engineer. The time to give the man with her at least a brief history lesson. She walked in silence for a time, then asked, "Do you know anything of Furya?"

"Only the prophecy about the male child being a warrior's downfall."

She threw a glance over at him. "You're the child. Fucking figures. I take it the bastard Zhylaw is dead?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she said, pausing briefly to look around at the city laid to waste. "Furyan's are exceptional warriors. Some think we were engineered to be that way, others believe it is an evolutionary adaptation. In any case, if a planet or system needed fighting to be done, and they could afford it, they would hire a company of Furyans. We could field such a fighting force..."

Masala let out a frustrated breath. "How the hell could this happen?"

It still pissed her off. She could not understand how the premier warriors in the universe had fallen to Zhylaw's purge. She did not know which made her angrier, the fact that it had happened or the fact that her people had been unable to stop it.

Riddick said nothing, merely matching his stride to hers.

She began her story again. "Warrior skills were trained and developed from the time a child could walk. We had Guilds for specialists as well as armor and weapons smiths. Only the Assassins Guild remains as it was the only one located off-world. As the Guilds go, it was the smallest with, perhaps, only 100 members spread out through the 'verse. Every year a handful of youngsters would be chosen to try out for the Assassins Guild. In a good year, two or three would be selected. Most years all candidates were rejected."

Of all the Guild Members, one had a special rank and special weapons which only they were allowed to carry. This assassin was sworn to serve Furya's needs before all other contracts. The mantle was passed on to another when the current bearer could no longer fulfill their duties. The old and the new would go before the Leader and the Seer to have the appointed accepted and anointed…That assassin is the Blade of Furya."

She fell silent; the only sound the crunching of their steps over the rubble of Etna. They topped a rise and before them lay the first rows of the headstones. Night had fallen while they walked and a low mist blanketed the ground. Her jaw clenched. She gave the markers only a cursory glance, knowing without a doubt everyone she had known on Furya was among the dead, and began threading her way through them.

Riddick's voice broke through her thoughts. "You're an assassin. Do know who this Blade is?"

"I know who it was," she answered quietly. "The new Blade has not been confirmed by Seer and Leader."

"Because there is no Leader," he stated.

"Yes, and, until I arrived, no one other than Shirah had set foot on Furya in over thirty years."

She stopped before the steps of the mausoleum. "Riddick, there's something else."

He had slid his goggles up when darkness descended around them. Her attention had been on their surroundings and not on him as the ground rose up to meet the mausoleum. He was a step behind her on purpose, keeping a wary eye on everything, but especially her. Even before she had said it, he knew there was something she was holding back. She turned and came face to face with him, her eyes widening in surprise at seeing his shining eyes.

The handprint on her chest pulsed brighter, and the vision came flooding back to her. Shirah striding out from among the headstones and placing her hand on her, calling her home. Then the Seer showed her the face of an Alpha Furyan, the lost Leader she had called him. She only remembered the shine of his eyes thinking it to be the vision of a double moon hanging in the sky.

"You said there was something else," he prompted.

She could not tear her eyes from his. "Yes…I believe Shirah intends you to be the new Leader. I only suspected before…"

"Why are you sure of it now?"

"She showed me your face in a vision, but all I remembered were your eyes. I thought they were a double moon. They are…beautiful."

She could not help the hand that rose to touch his face. It was so odd to see a vision made flesh…and to see not just another Furyan after so many years but another Alpha as well. Just as her fingers were about to caress his cheek, she felt a presence behind her and spun, long black blades appearing in her hands. Masala relaxed only slightly when she saw that it was Shirah coalescing from the mists. She kept her blades at hand.

Shirah looked the same as she did in the visions. There but not there, only partially corporeal. She had been fully in this world when Masala had last seen her.

"Seer Shirah," she greeted with wariness.

"Masala, child, it is good to see you again. You've grown so."

As Shirah came forward, Masala took a step back. Her back heel caught on Riddick's boot, and he instinctively reached out to steady her. Another pulse of blue lightning passed between them, but this one did not jar like the other, only tingled.

Shirah looked past Masala to Riddick. "I see you've brought our lost Leader home."

Masala shook her head, "It has to be his choice. You cannot force or trick him into it. If you try, I'll not accept the confirmation."

The Seer raised an eyebrow at her, "Your defense of him shows you have already accepted him as Leader."

"No," the assassin protested. "I only defend his right as an Alpha to choose. It is the right of every Alpha as it is the right of every Furyan. "

"And if there are no other Alphas and he chooses no? Would you take it up?" Shirah asked.

She was being tested, Masala knew it. "You know as well as I do that I am already committed elsewhere. If he chooses no then we find another Furyan who is willing and able and bind the Alpha gift to them. It has been done before."

"Not in a century or more."

"And how long have you been Seer?"

Shirah smiled. "Point taken."

The Seer moved to go around Masala, but the assassin kept herself between Shirah and Riddick. She had not been that awe-struck girl called to the Seer's temple in decades. She had seen, done and experienced plenty of things between then and this minute to make her suspicious of even the most benign seeming beings. And no Furyan could ever be accused of being benign, especially not one accustomed to orchestrating things according to her own designs.

Riddick watched the encounter between the two Furyan women with curiosity, his luminous eyes taking in the nuances of their speech and body language. The spectral woman was amused and intrigued by the other. The assassin was both wary and reverent, her stance defensive, a line of coiled tension in her shoulders. He decided to test something. He put a hand on Masala's shoulder, noted the pulse passing between them once again.

"Masala," he said.

Her head turned just a hair towards him, indicating she was listening.

"Stand down."

It was a request, not a command. She considered a moment before making the long blades vanish and stepping to the side. He moved forward, bringing himself face to face with the one who gave him back his earliest memories.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his deep voice reverberating in this place of death.

"Masala was right," Shirah told him. "I intend for you to be the new Furyan Leader."

His eyes slid briefly towards Masala who noticed but did not acknowledge it. She stood ready to intervene, her gaze never wavering from Shirah.

"Leader? Of two," he paused to look Shirah up and down, "well, one and a half people?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Masala let out a snort of laughter. The same thought had crossed her mind. As far as she knew, she and Riddick were the only living Furyans. Her Guild had suffered many losses in the last thirty-five years, and when she had begun the journey to Furya five years ago, there were only four others remaining. She had no idea if any of those four were still alive. And she was not about to personally repopulate the planet. Hell no.

"Others have been called home," Shirah said.

"What makes you think I'd agree?" he asked.

"You killed Zhylaw. You avenged our people," she told him.

"I didn't do it for you _or _your people," he stated.

Masala shifted and gave him a curious glance, wondering what he meant exactly.

"And yet you heeded my call to come to Furya."

He shrugged. "I didn't have anything better to do, and I was curious."

"And has your curiosity been satisfied?"

"Not yet."


	4. Chapter 4

a/n: Thanks for the continuing encouragement, CoF93. It is much appreciated!

* * *

The meeting with Shirah went steadily downhill from there as Masala had expected it would. Her reputation among those in the business afforded her a good deal of knowledge about some things. One of those things was a sizeable portion of Richard B. Riddick's history, from his time with The Company through his various attempted incarcerations up until about ten years prior. She had it all on file; someone trying to hire her to do bounty work had sent it thinking she would fall for the challenge of attempting to capture the notorious escaped convict. But she did not do live capture, ever. The pay off was never worth the risk. And, at the time, she had a more pressing matter to attend to.

Riddick was becoming frustrated with Shirah's non-answers and riddles, her constant maneuvering to try to get him to accept that which he did not want. His normal tactic of holding a person up by their neck until they told him what he wanted to know would not work with her. He growled his irritation, turned and walked off into the mist.

Masala watched him go then looked to Shirah and asked, "The others you called, are they like Riddick who have no knowledge of their origins? Or old ones like me?"

"Both," the Seer answered.

"When will they arrive?"

"Soon I think."

Masala raised an eyebrow and changed the subject. "Where's my family?"

"There."

Shirah pointed and the path became clear. As she turned to follow it Shirah called to her once more. "Masala."

Masala's steps paused.

"Bring him back…for the good of Furya."

She turned her head and her green gaze sought out the Seer. "If he returns it will be of his own accord and not my doing."

Her feet were sure on the narrow walk that twisted through hundreds of thousands of graves. She swept her gaze across the many engravings, seeing names both familiar and not until she came upon a cluster where she knew them all. She moved from the path and knelt on one knee. With a slightly bowed head, she whispered an invocation.

* * *

When he had walked away from the vision woman, Riddick knew he followed the same path they had used to get to her. So why was it that he had not yet reached the edge of the great cemetery? The mists swirled his feet and the path seemed to changed direction. An angry growl issued from his throat. His sense of direction was beyond excellent, and there could be only one reason he seemed lost.

"Do not know who you are fucking with…" he growled.

Though the path seemed to be leading one way, he purposefully left it and turned another, letting a sense other than his eyes guide him. Now that he no longer looked for the path, he casually read the markers as he passed them. Men, women and children of all ages were represented here, and all he saw shared the same death year, most within the same span of days. He idly wondered who had been left to dig the graves.

He heard the murmur of voices ahead and paused to listen. The strong one he identified as belonging to the assassin. The others were fainter, like whispers on the wind. He listened closely, approaching cautiously. He saw her now, standing among a close cluster of stones and surrounded by ghostly figures of blue.

"Be at peace," he heard her say. "Your deaths have been avenged. The one called Zhylaw is dead."

A deep voice rose over the many. "Thank you, daughter, but our justice is not yet completed. There is another."

"Another?"

"The Betrayer."

"Shirah said nothing of it."

"We forbade her as is our Right."

"What is it that you are not telling me, father?"

"Furya would not have fallen so easily if we had not been betrayed from within. Bad enough that the elementals offered us up to save their own world, but that is an understandable thing, and we bear them no ill will. But to have one of our own, of our Blood even, effect the fall of our People…"

Riddick was close enough now that he could see that shock on her face. He stood silently, waiting, observing, a shiv in his hand absently tapping his leg.

"Who?" she demanded.

"Look among us. Whose face do you not see?"

She peered about searching through the apparitions. Her gaze flitted past Riddick, came back to acknowledge him, and then continued on. He saw the tension in her body increase as she completed her search and once more faced the primary ghost, the one she had called father.

"It cannot be," she said in a horrified whisper, a pained expression covering her features. "Why...why would he do such a thing?"

Her father shook his head sadly. "We do not know. We would that you find him and ask him, forcefully...and return him here to face our retribution."

"For Furya, for my family, this thing I will do," she agreed, her face becoming a hard mask of impassiveness. Then she called to him, "Riddick, would you stand by me?"

His head cocked to the side, he acquiesced and came to stand at her side. The spirits turned their attention towards him, curiosity evident.

She introduced him, "This is Riddick, the man whose hand rid us of Zhylaw."

At Riddick's questioning look, she told him, "Whatever your reasons were, it was still you that struck him down. They will communicate amongst themselves, and no one else will be able to claim your kill. It might not be important to you, but it is to us."

An excited murmur ran through them. Soon there were many more and they began to press in. His brow furrowed as they seem to coalesce around him, and he pulled his goggles down over his eyes.

"Hold!" the voice of the living woman beside him rang out over the increasing babble of the dead.

They froze and turned to her as one.

"He was taken from here as a babe and does not know our Ways."

A ripple of understanding passed through them, and the visage of her father appeared at their forefront as the crowd ebbed back. She knew what they wanted, understood it even. She had her doubts that Riddick would like it though.

"I will ask," she said before addressing Riddick. "They wish to pay you homage and give their thanks. Traditionally, their spirits pass through you, and some may leave something of themselves behind for you. It will not harm you, but it can be…unsettling and overwhelming, or so I am told."

"Or so you are told?"

"It's never been done to me," she replied with a shrug, looking out over the sea of blue figures. And I have never seen it done by this many. Again, it is your choice."

"And if I say no?"

"Then they will be disappointed." She turned to face him then and laid a hand on his arm that pulse passing between them once again. "If you wish time to consider this, it will be given, but, please, only ask for it if you truly will consider it. These souls have been tormented enough the last thirty-five years."

Riddick glanced down to the hand on his arm, seeing the after image of the pulse, then into her eyes though she could not see his. This woman intrigued him. She knew precisely who and what he was and, yet, she did not fear him as so many had. There was also something familiar about her that he could not yet place. _Hmmm, interesting…_

"I will consider it," he rumbled.

She knew that he meant it. The spirits had heard and had dissipated, all but a handful. He looked at the remaining forms then back to Masala.

"They are here for me," she explained. "They are my family. Father, mother, sister, aunt, cousins."

The one he knew was her father reached out to her, as if to caress her face. There was a great sorrow etched in his face as he looked closely at his daughter. Then puzzlement crossed his face. "It has not been passed to you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Do you have what your predecessor gave you?"

"Yes," she answered as she pulled a small vial from a pocket.

Her father held out his hand and she placed the vial there. It hung suspended in the air as if his palm was solid beneath it.

"Draw the blades and kneel."

"You should stand back, Riddick."

Riddick accepted her warning and took a large step back, his face keen with interest, as she fell to both knees and pulled the long black blades he had seen when she confronted Shirah. She flipped the long knives around in her hands and, palms up, laid the flat of them along the inside of her forearms with the points touching the inner bend of her elbows. Just as she settled in the vial fell to the ground shattering. Another spirit man appeared, this one kneeling and placing his hands over hers. Her eyes widened in recognition.

His voice seemed to come from a great distance. "From my hand, my heart, my spirit to yours, so passes my honor and duty. Do you accept, Gorgona Masala?"

The words came to her unbidden, as is she had always known them. "I accept, Mattias Hiron. Your duty is fulfilled. Go to the rest you have earned."

Her father and the others spoke as one, "From the Fires of Furya a new Blade is Forged."

She was suddenly at the center of a sphere of light that throbbed like a heartbeat. The light grew bright enough that Riddick had to shield his goggled protected eyes. He felt his own pulse synchronize with the sphere's rhythm as it built to a crescendo. When it seemed as if his heart would burst, the sphere imploded into her, pulling in an energy wave that passed through, over and around him. The black blades flashed with heat, and she cried out as the skin beneath them was seared.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: CofF93 - will have to wait and see...he is an inscrutable fellow, never can tell what he is going to do

* * *

When Riddick could see again they were alone. Masala still knelt on the ground, but now she leaned forward with her hands on her knees, breathing raggedly. He approached her with a sure step and held out his hand.

"Masala?"

"Fuck," she bit out and slowly raised her head, her eyes shone with a new light not unlike his.

She accepted the offer of the hand for what it was, wincing at the pulse that passed between them and hyper-aware of the feel of the calluses on his palm. He did not release her when she came to her feet, instead turning her arm to see the burn damage. At what he saw he pulled off his goggles. He caught her other wrist and turned over that arm as well. Images of long, slightly curved daggers ran the length of each forearm with the blade's point at the bend of the elbow and the pommel inscribed over the wrist.

"What's this?" he asked indicating her new artwork.

"The mark of the Blade," she said looking down with a wry smile on her face. "I guess I'm official now."

"But you said…"

"Apparently they had other ideas. And spirits are incredibly hard to argue with."

She started to laugh.

"What?"

"Shirah is going to be _pissed_."

He chuckled. "I can appreciate that."

Her chin came up, and their eyes locked. She was suddenly aware that he still held her wrists, and she was close to him, too close. His peppery musk filled her nostrils. She felt uncomfortably warm.

When she looked up, he was caught in her gaze. The odd pulse kept passing between them, and the scent of cinnamon and cloves wafted up to him. His brow furrowed. He was not sure why, but he asked, "Did you still want that shower?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, let's get the hell out of here. I have had enough mysticism for one day."

"Right."

He let go, and she quickly turned away and began walking. _What the hell was that? What just happened? I'm too fucking old for this shit. Shit! Oh, she better not be messing with me like that._

Ironically, his thoughts were not so different. _What the fuck?_ He ran a hand back over his scalp and shook his head then followed her, noticing more of her form and shape in a way different than before. _I need a fucking drink._

Neither spoke until they were well away from the graveyard and much closer to the ships. It was not a companionable silence, rather a matter of awkwardness and each being wrapped in their own thoughts. Even so, they both froze mid-step, and their heads tilted identically as they rounded a partial wall and noticed movement near her ship.

After a moment of watching and seeing only one, Masala headed towards her ship, flitting from one place of cover to another. Riddick followed, purposefully a few seconds behind her. They approached the ship from the side opposite their visitor. Upon reaching it she pulled herself up the fuselage to stand on the top of the craft. The slime ball trying to hack through the access panel did not notice her.

She looked to Riddick's ship and saw five more. She signaled him this information then looked down to the hack below. Her voice low and dangerous, she asked, "You mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing to my ship?"

His head whipped up in surprise, and he dropped the tools and lamp he held. All he could see in the dark was the shine of her eyes.

"It…it looked abandoned," he stammered.

"Bull shit. Try again."

Then he tried to run only to smack in to the wall that was Riddick's chest and suddenly found himself dangling from the large man's hand around his neck. "The lady asked you a question. I suggest you answer it."

It did not sound like a suggestion. The hack tried to answer but fear and the pressure of Riddick's hand interfered. Riddick lowered him to the ground and lessened his hold. The hack pointed in the direction of Riddick's ship. "Derrik wants…wants salvage from it. Extra on top of the bounty."

"Mercs," Masala said in disgust then dropped down next to Riddick. "What bounty?"

The hack looked from one pair of glowing eyes to the other and quailed even more. The smell of fear and piss rolled off him. His voice became a scared whimper, "For the convict. No one else."

"How much and where?" the convict in question demanded.

"Derrik promised one-fifty K each. Don't know where."

Convict and assassin shared a glance and a shrug before Masala drove a blade up into the hack's chest piercing his heart. Riddick let the now limp body drop, and she wiped her blade clean on the dead hack's clothes. They turned as one to face the direction that Riddick's ship lay in. She cocked her head at him. "Allow me."

He held out a hand in a 'be my guest' gesture. She rolled her shoulders and walked straight towards the small group around the other ship. Riddick watched her go then slipped into the shadows of the night to observe.

For a group hunting the infamous Richard B. Riddick, they were woefully unaware. Masala was not trying to be stealthy or unseen, but they did not notice her until she was within two meters of them. She stopped and stood with her arms crossed, an irritated expression on her face. Her anger was not feigned. She did not like people fucking with what was hers.

"Which one of you fuck-ups is Derrik?"

Although not one stepped forward, all eyes slid to one. She directed her attention to him; medium height, medium build, overall fit but soft around the middle, ruddy complexion, arrogant with enough intelligence and possibly brutality to keep him in charge of the scum he kept as lackeys. The apparent Derrik looked her up and down, noting the weapons but not really considering a lone woman a threat to him or his crew. He did briefly bother to wonder how she knew his name though.

"What's it t' you?" he asked in a nasal voice.

"This Derrik fellow sent some dumb ass hack to break into my ship calling it salvage. Salvage SOP is to ping the registry. Either it wasn't done, in which case you're just pirates, or it was and is being ignored, in which case you're stupid pirates."

They rankled under her words, postures stiffening, chins jutting out. Being a merc was once thing, a pirate was worse, only thing worse was a slaver. Derrik's eyes narrowed.

"A real shame 'bout that female owned that ship," he drawled. "That convict fellow, he kild her."

Her stance shifted minutely as her arms dropped to her sides. "Did he now?"

"Course, he had his fun 'fore killed her."

His crew took that for the hint it was and smiled lasciviously at her. An angry growl came from the surrounding night. Riddick may be a murderer, but he was no rapist, and he did not appreciate the implication. The merc crew looked around at the sound, but seeing nothing returned to their original course of action by fanning out around her. Masala knew what or rather who it was and could not help the smirk that curled her lips as she waited for them to make the first move.

While Derrik hung back, the other four rushed her. Her smile grew wider as she vaulted backwards over her head, slapping the quick release on her rifle strap, wrapping one hand around the barrel and swinging it in an arc as her feet touched back down. Three were quick enough to get out of range but the fourth was not. The butt of the rifle slammed into the fourth's head, shattering his jaw and making teeth and blood fly. He dropped with a strangled cry.

She flipped the rifle and dropped the butt to bounce on the ground. The other three approached more cautiously now and attempted to coordinate their efforts. The fact that they had not worked together long was all too obvious. One was a hair faster than the others and ended up with a shattered knee for his trouble when she twisted her hips and her booted foot flashed out in a side kick. He dropped as well clutching at the busted joint.

The other two came at her. She let the rifle fall away and pulled daggers of Damascus steel. Lamp light flashed off the blades as she spun and intercepted their blows with strikes of her own. Face showing shock, one grabbed at his abdomen trying to hold in his intestines. The other fell back a step having only been grazed. He was no longer interested in fun, only survival, and pulled his gauge. She was inside his reach before the weapon could be brought to bear. Her wrist turned so instead of slashing, her knuckles smashed into his trachea crushing it.

That left only Derrik. His gauge was up and had a bead on her as she turned to face him. She smiled at the large shadow that loomed up behind him.

"What are you smiling at, bitch?" he snarled.

"The convict has questions for you."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to CofF93 and prettytightkid for the continued encouragement. And a shout out to those who have added the story to your favorites/alerts.

* * *

The gauge dropped from Derrik's nerveless fingers as a large hand squeezed his shoulder.

"What's the payday?" Riddick's deep voice rumbled from behind the merc.

"Mil," he grunted.

"Planned to keep the lion's share for yourself, eh? Who's offering?"

"Private party out of Quintessa."

Masala looked up in surprise from the last of the downed mercs. "You pissed off the elementals, too?"

"Aereon," he growled.

She frowned. "That's who sent Zhylaw here. It was her prophecy that destroyed our world..."

Her frown deepened. _How the hell did I know that?_

"She's getting cheap on me. Last time it was a mil-five," he commented then his shiv was at Derrik's throat. "Or are you holding out on me?"

"No, no," the merc shook his head vehemently. "That's all he offered us."

"He who?"

A voice familiar to him said, "That would be me, Riddick."

Masala spun towards the voice, her pistols skinning out of their holsters. The man she faced was another grungy merc, this one wearing mutton chops. Behind him were a half dozen more of the same, all holding gauges or energy weapons.

"Tooms," Riddick said. "I see you managed to get another crew. Probably shouldn't tell 'em what happened to the others."

"I owe you, Riddick, for leaving me on that shit hole Crematoria," Tooms said then spared a glance for the four dead. "And we'll add four more murders to the list."

"Wasn't my doing." He indicated Masala.

"You?" Tooms asked, directing his attention to her. "Who 're you and why?"

"Masala. Assholes were trying to jack my ship. I don't like my shit being fucked with. And you're trespassing so you're fucking with my shit too."

Tooms let out a laugh. "Ha. Trespassing? On a dead planet? Where'd you find her, Riddick? She's funny."

"I didn't. She found me. We are on her planet after all."

"You're Furyan?" Disbelief colored Toom's tone.

"Yes, I am. One of the few who survived the purge."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I was traveling…on business, Furyan business."

"Bull shit." That was one of the other mercs. "Not old enough. Have to be at least fifty."

"Sixty actually. Lots of time in cryo."

She had not intended to reveal her true age, but she certainly was not the only person kept youthful by cryo. Of course her Furyan genetics helped hide her age too. One of the few advantages of spending days, weeks, months, even years in cryo was that you did not really age during that time. The purge had happened thirty-five years prior. She had already been off-world for ten years with a plan to return, a full-fledged Guild assassin for eight.

"Now, if you don't mind," she spoke again, "I have some business to take care of with Mr. Riddick there."

"Actually, I do mind. There's a two-five bounty I only have to split five ways now."

"Greed is the Creed, huh, Tooms?" Riddick laughed, especially since it was dawning on Derrik that he was not included in the five-way split.

The merc under Riddick's grasp finally found a bit of courage. "Fuck you, Tooms. You can't cut me out after I found him for ya."

_Fucking mercs. Could always count on 'em to turn on each other._ "Tell you what, Tooms," Masala interjected, "If you can hold him, you can have Riddick after our business deal is done."

Riddick's head twitched just a bit, wondering what the hell she was playing at. The same thought seemed to cross Toom's mind.

"And what business deal would that be."

"He's taking me to the Necros. I have a score to settle with them, well, one of them in particular."

The merc crew shifted nervously. Just mentioning the Necros did that to people. Used to be that way with Furyans, but they were a lot less scary since there were

Tooms laughed again. "You are one crazy bitch, you know that? No one willingly gets that close to the Necros."

"You did," Riddick contradicted him with a chuckle. "Before you gave me a ride to Crematoria."

"What's to stop me from just killing you and taking him?"

Masala smiled at the idea of another fight. "You could try. I haven't had nearly enough fun tonight."

Riddick chuckled again and wondered if all Furyans had been like her. As Tooms considered her words, a howl split the night. It was soon followed by several more. Her smile disappeared. The howls were close and getting closer. She dropped one pistol into its holster, scooped up her rifle and backed up towards Riddick and the ship. Taking the cue from her, he palmed open the hatch and shoved Derrik to the side while looking out beyond the mercs. He saw the glowing outlines of the slinking four footed animals in the distance, and they were steadily coming closer.

He put a hand on her back to let her know she was right in front of him. She handed the rifle back to him and drew the other pistol again.

"Loaded?" he asked and hoisted it into firing position over her shoulder when she nodded.

"Onboard, quickly," she whispered shifting backwards so that her shoulders were against his chest, pulse be damned. Then she called out, "Tooms, you best get your asses off the ground. It'll be too late if you see them."

His crew had done about faces when the howls started, trying to peer out into the night. With nary a moment's hesitation, they followed the woman's advice and ran and not all in the same direction.

Staying in contact and moving in unison, Riddick and Masala walked backwards up the ramp. Derrik decided he rather face the convict and the woman who had killed his crew than whatever was out there and crawled towards them on the beckoning ramp. As soon as Riddick's foot hit the flat of the deck, he reached over and activated the control to bring the ramp in and close the hatch. Three more steps brought Masala fully in the ship, and she watched as the hatch closed on the crawling merc.

"What were those?" he asked leaning the rifle against the bulkhead.

"Fire wolves, probably hungry and brought out by the scent of blood," she answered holstering the pistols. "And if they're this close, they are probably descendant's of domestics gone feral. Much more dangerous and unpredictable than the wild ones. They'll be out there a while."

"Sounds like my kind of animal."

She turned at the hint of humor in his voice. He was leaning against the bulkhead propped by one arm and staring at the closed hatch as if he could see through it. This also meant he was leaning over her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him or stare at the muscled golden chest. The peppery musk filled her nostrils again stirring a feeling she was not sure was her own.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked nonchalantly although she was anything but.

He looked down, only then realizing their proximity. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. His voice gone husky, he said the first thing that popped into his head, "Did you still want that shower?"

"I, um, don't have any clean clothes with me," she replied. _Yeah, a cold one. Very cold. What the hell?_

"I, ah, I've got extra, if you don't mind..." _Holy shit, what is going on here?_

A sudden pounding sounded on the hatch followed by a hard thud and what might have been a scream. It was hard to tell through the hull, but it offered both an interruption they were grateful for. They both moved away from the hatch but looked at it. She spoke first, "One of the wolves must have gotten Derrik. I hope there wasn't anything else you wanted to ask him."

He shook his head. "No, now I just need to find out what Aeroen's up to this time."

He turned and pointed to a recessed door. "Shower's through there. There's clothes in the cabin wardrobe. I'm going aft to the galley. "

He was gone before she could respond. It was probably best that way. She went to the door he had indicated and it slid open for her. Stepping through, she found herself in a room about three meters square with a wide bed, a wardrobe and a door on an adjoining wall. The musk scent was stronger in here, and she tried not to breathe too deeply. She went to the wardrobe and found several sets of near identical clothing. She could not help the grin. Her own closet space was much the same. She pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants figuring she could cinch the waist in with her belt.

She stripped out of her clothes and got in to the shower cube. She had it set for warm, but these always started off cold, and she was fine with that. The icy spray shocked her system and killed that stirring she had felt, mostly. She leaned her arms against the side and ducked her head under the water. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damn it all._

Riddick made his way to the galley in record time. Once there he started going through the compartments knowing he had liquor stashed somewhere. He actually came up with several bottles, more than he remembered having, but it was all good and a selection too. He debated whether or not to bother with a glass, finally compromising by choosing a highball glass. He took all the bottles and the glass to the table and plopped into a chair. He studied the bottles for a minute before deciding on the whiskey.

There was a snap as the seal broke as he twisted the cap. The dark amber liquid splashed into the glass. He inhaled deeply trying to clear the scent of cinnamon and cloves from his olfactories. Without even trying, he emptied the glass then poured another. This one he sipped at as he tried to make sense of things. _Fuck, I'm going soft. Have been since I brought those two off that damn planet. _

At least, that is what he tried to tell himself. Truth was, though, Riddick always had a soft spot for women and kids. It was evident in the way he got pissed when it was implied he would rape. It was evident when he gave himself up instead of letting Johns kill that kid. It was evident when he stared down Johns when he went after Carolyn. It was evident when he used Johns for bait instead of the girl calling herself Jack or when he risked all to pull Kyra off the side of the mountain before the Crematoria sun could reach her.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: thanks for the continued support

* * *

Now there was this woman on his ship. Another Furyan she was, marked by the same hand print that marked him. She was his match in many ways and was unafraid of him as Kyra had been. And he could not help but think about her. He rubbed his head in frustration and took another drink. It had been amusing to watch her toy with those mercs, and she had been toying with them before she killed them. If those fire wolves had not shown up, she probably would have taken out the rest of Tooms' crew too. He chuckled at the thought of that.

"What's funny? And is there enough for me?"

"Was just imagining the look on Tooms's face if you had a chance to take out his crew," he answered getting up to get another glass.

"The first set weren't exactly a challenge," she admitted with a laugh. "How many run ins you had with him?"

He thought for a minute. "This makes four."

As he brought the extra glass to the table his eyes came up slowly, noticing first her bare feet, the bottom of the pants rolled up, the waist cinched tight by a leather belt, the tank top with strategic knotting to make it shorter and tighter. She had made his clothes fit her with seemingly little effort.

Her auburn hair was still damp and no longer braided. It framed her face and set off her eyes. Green eyes he noticed now, but with a shine to them like his.

She noticed the once over but did not comment on it, instead taking the glass and filling it up with the remains of the whiskey bottle. She took a long pull of it then set the glass down.

"About the Necros…" she started, choosing what she thought might be a safe topic.

"What about them?"

"I do need find them."

"Why?"

"It's a starting point. Did you hear my father mention the Betrayer?"

He nodded and opened another bottle, a different whiskey.

"If he isn't with them they might know where he is."

"And?"

"And I figure they won't try to kill me or convert me on sight if I'm escorted by the Lord Marshall. Or escorting, as the case may be."

"How are you going to find the Lord Marshall?"

"I'm looking at him."

"Should have known you'd figure that out."

"It ain't difficult. Hell, even the mercs could figure it out if they thought about it. You think that elemental put the bounty on you cause you're Riddick or cause you're the Lord Marshall."

"No fucking idea."

They reached for the whiskey bottle at the same time, their hands coming together and the little pulse ran between them. He let go, and she poured for both of them.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"Damned if I know." Then she paused as if listening to something. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. "_That _is going to take some getting used to."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Apparently when I was marked and took on the mantle of the Blade, I also received all my predecessors' memories and knowledge. Like that bit about Aereon giving the prophecy about you, that just popped into my head. This time it was like someone whispering in my ear…apparently the pulse thing has to do with us being Alphas…"

She cocked her head again then exclaimed, "Oh, _hell _no!"

"What?"

The look on her face was comical, and she was flushed. She picked up the glass, drained it without taking a breath then refilled it. She gripped it tightly as she met his eyes over the rim of the glass wondering if she needed more liquid courage.

"And being worthy of each other, whatever the hell that means…" She paused for another couple of swigs. "…and not having either committed or living mates."

That said, she emptied and refilled the glass again, and it was time for a new bottle. Riddick turned the words over in his mind, and then actually looked a bit shocked. He finished off his drink and opened a new bottle before asking, "Mates?"

"Um, yeah, it seems it is a survival of the race kind of thing. You know…the drive to procreate and all that…"

"This is some crazy world you're from."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're from here too even if you don't remember most of it."

They fell into silence for a while, both concentrating on the alcohol in front of them and trying not to notice the other. Finally he said, "So, sixty, huh?"

She grinned. "You do know, that no matter how much of a bad ass you are it is still not okay to ask a woman her age? But, yeah, sixty, if you count all the way back to my birth year. Thank god for Furyan genetics and a shit load of time in cryo."

"How much time?"

"I don't know…if it was all stuck together probably a couple dozen years or so. Hell, it took five to get here."

"You were pretty far off the beaten path then."

"Yeah, I was trying to track someone down too. Probably never find her now. Trail was pretty damn cold at the time. Fucking Shirah."

The way she said it, the issue seemed more personal than business but still he asked, "A target?"

"No…my daughter. She was taken from me as an infant. They thought they could force her father's hand by holding her for ransom. They didn't realize how defiant Furyans could be, but they found out, the hard way, when Mattias and I slaughtered them all. They never intended to return her, in fact, they had sold her off to a couple before even placing the ransom demand."

"Mattias? I heard that name earlier."

"Yes, in the graveyard during the transfer of power," she sighed. "Mattias was my predecessor and my daughter's father. She'd be twenty-two now…Aquilla Hiron."

"Wait, he called you..."

She interrupted him, "Does anyone call you Richard?"

"No." He wisely changed the subject. "How far did you get?"

"Tracked down the couple who were dead by the time I got there, found out she was given into the custody of an uncle who was a real bastard, and she ran away from him. Him I took care of. Mattias was dead by then. The last lead I had was that she'd snuck on to a back lane shipping frigate that crash landed on some forsaken planet on the ass end of the galaxy. That would have been about ten years ago now that it happened. She was twelve and ballsy as hell from what I heard."

Riddick had an odd sensation sweep over him, like he knew who she was talking about. Chills crept up his spine, and he finished another drink. Being near her was throwing him off balance. He did not like the feeling, at all. "How long will the wolves be out there?"

"Probably won't leave 'til morning. You think Tooms made it and will still be around to cause problems come then."

"Son of a bitch has a bad habit of constantly turning up."

"Why haven't you killed him yet?"

"Figured I'd leave that to you."

"I get rid of him, will you take me to the Necros?"

"You really serious about that?"

"Wouldn't ask if I weren't."

"What's with this Betrayer business anyway?"

"Look at what you are capable of in a fight, as a warrior. You saw a bit of what I can do. Now imagine several thousand others with the same capabilities as us. And add several hundred thousand only slightly less capable to back them up. You really think a planet full of those people would really fall in a single night without treachery being involved?"

"Guess not," he had to admit. No wonder Aereon was so keen to know if there were more like him. "How are you going to recognize this guy?"

"Oh, I'll recognize the asshole even if he looks like he's seventy. I'll always know Pericles, although, if he's a Necro now he probably doesn't use that name anymore. I heard they change their names. Is that true?"

"From what Vaako told me. Didn't pay much attention. How can you be sure he isn't already dead?"

"They'd have known, father and the others."

"More of that metaphysical crap?"

"Yeah."

"Tell you what, go with me to Quintessa, and I'll take you to the Necros."

She mused it over for a couple of minutes. The elementals were almost as bad as Shirah, almost. "Deal. Is there another cabin on board? My ship would need some serious attention before making a run like that, and I ain't bunking with you."

He nodded. "A couple. Supposed to be a five-man ship."

"Did you toss the other four or did you even bother with them?"

"Didn't bother."

Her mouth crooked up in a grin. "Well, you're big enough for two, maybe three even."

He had an answering grin. "And you're deadly enough for at least two or three."

"So we're covered."

"We're covered," he agreed.

They were in safe territory now, easy camaraderie, and neither was willing to risk venturing from it. They spoke of weapons, ships, and other mundane things. Then they began to compare their arsenals and a variety of blades soon joined the empties on the table. By the time they were done they had killed every last drop of alcohol and bonded in a way only soldiers do. Riddick pointed out the other cabins as he went to his, and Masala chose the one farthest from his to crash in for the remaining few hours of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

A/Ns:

Hello to the new readers. Appreciate your time.

CoF93 & prettytightkid : um, maybe...the path hasn't been chosen yet

Adastrea: Thanks for the kind words and encouragement.

* * *

Riddick lay in his bunk, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling contemplating the newest twist in his life. He could not have said he was happy in his life being an escaped convict on the run always looking over his shoulder for mercs, but there was a certain continuity to it. That all went to shit when he had that first visit from Shirah on the way to Helion Prime, when she returned his earliest memories to him. Now she wanted him to be the new Furyan Leader as if being the Lord Marshall of the Necros was not enough, not that he actively led them. He had, in fact, gone on sabbatical as he put it, quite some time ago. They seemed relieved for some reason.

When she had appeared again and called him to Furya, he had gone out of curiosity and boredom. There is nothing like having the whole Necro army at your beck and call to keep the mercs off your neck. Now here he was on Furya with a new conundrum, the woman Masala. She was the first Furyan woman he had met and an assassin. She stirred feelings in him he did not recognize, besides the lust of a man for a woman. It was certainly not the protective instincts he had felt towards Jack become Kyra. And he had made a deal with her to take her to the Necros, which meant they would be spending time in close quarters.

He was seriously thinking about breaking the deal. Then he thought about her missing daughter and wondered if it were possible. Was Jack/Kyra her daughter? He growled in irritation. His mind would not still enough for true rest. It kept turning these things over and over. It was definitely simpler merely being an escaped convict.

Not that the knowledge would have helped him, but down the short corridor in the spare cabin farthest from his, the other Furyan was having similar difficulties. Masala groaned into the mattress as she lay face down on the bunk. She had just spent nearly five years in cryo trying to get back to Furya because of Shirah's constant nagging, and she had still bothered her during cryo with the visions of Riddick. Now here she was on the same small ship with him having agreed to go see the elementals with him in exchange for being taken to the Necros.

All that time in cryo must have addled her brain. It was definitely not a good idea. And she had told him of Aquilla and of Mattias. She had essentially confided in him. She realized she trusted him though she had no reason to other than he was another Furyan. He was a fine looking one at that not to mention another Alpha. She had never felt the pull towards Mattias that she did towards Riddick. She and Mattias had known each other for years, been mentor/mentee, friends and finally comfortable lovers. But this thing for Riddick…She could not trust it, did not know if it was her own or some sort of manipulation on Shirah's part. The predecessor inherited information did not help.

She may have dozed off once or twice but her thoughts would not cease long enough to allow her to sleep completely. She rolled over onto her back and dug into a pocket for her chrono. She had set it to reflect the Furyan day, and the time indicated it was early morning. _Fuck it,_ she thought pushing up and off the bed. She dug through her pack and came up with a small tin canister. That in hand she left the cabin and returned to the galley.

He was not there, and she was grateful for it although his scent permeated everything. It was a pleasant scent, and she inhaled deeply, allowing herself a moment to enjoy it without his presence. She then searched around in the compartments until she came up with a mugs and a teapot. She set up the teapot with water and some of the tin's contents then left it to boil then steep in the cooker. While she waited she stretched to work out the kinks resulting from the prior night's unrest then cleared the empties from the table.

Riddick's nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of spiced tea wafting through the ship. He wondered where she had found it then figured she must have had it with her. He arrived in the galley just as she was straining the dark liquid into mugs from the teapot. She offered and he accepted the hot drink without words being exchanged. It was already sweetened and mixed with what appeared to be milk. He sipped at it, savoring the taste. She did the same, eyes closed.

"I've been thinking about our deal," he said into the quiet.

She opened her eyes, met his mercurial gaze with her own. "That we should just forget the whole thing? Go our separate ways and take our chances with that?"

"You've been thinking about it too."

"Incessantly," she replied with a little irritated growl. "And yet, putting Furya first as I am sworn to do now…"

His eyebrows rose in question.

"I have this notion that the elementals are calculating what to do about Furya. Furya should have a say, and since I'm currently the only Furyan official ….plus I'd really like to have a personal chat with this Aereon. And you are still my best way into the center of the Necros. So…have anything better to do besides dodging mercs?"

Really, he did not. The plan was to go see what Aereon was up to that she once again issued a bounty for him. After that, he had no plans at all other than to keep moving. "Not particularly."

"Do we still have a deal then?"

"We do."

She drained the mug of its contents and set it down. "I need to collect a few things from my ship. Want I should ghost Toombs if he survived the fire wolves and is still hanging about?"

"What 'ill it cost me?"

"I'll figure something out. Besides, I could use a little exercise this morning."

As she left the galley she pulled two long blades out, casually spinning them about by flipping her wrists. She paused and looked back over her shoulder at him, a wicked expression across her features. "Care to join me?"

A corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. "You enjoy your work, don't you?"

"Immensely."

As he followed her he noted she had an eagerness in her step and that the only bit of armament she was missing was the rifle. A part of him was hoping Toombs was still around. It could prove to be highly entertaining.

Though spoiling for a fight, Masala exited the ship cautiously. The remains of Derrik were not much more than some torn clothing, his gun and a blood trail. She picked up the gun and tossed it back to Riddick who caught it reflexively. The bodies of the four she had killed were also gone, drag marks plain to see. Neither Toombs nor his crew was in sight, and she seemed disappointed. Riddick closed the hatch and activated the locking mechanism as she disappeared around the tail of the craft.

Moments later her voice came from above him, "Damn. Nowhere in sight. Where do you think they got off to?"

He looked up and saw her standing on top of the ship, the scope from her rifle held up to her eye. He shrugged, "Waiting in orbit?"

"Toombs didn't strike me as that intelligent. I guess even a blind dog…" She did not finish the saying, instead jumping down to land beside him, her boots thudding into the ground. "Gonna go grab my gear."

Riddick followed her to her ship, his curiosity getting the best of him. He wanted to know about her and figured the inside of her ship might tell him a thing or two. They made it to her ship unmolested though the fire wolves had been there as well as evidenced by the paw prints and the hack's body being gone. The only thing left of him was a blood stain in the dirt.

She palmed open the hatch and climbed in before the small ramp could completely descend. For him, it was only the matter of taking a single large step. Once inside, he could not stand up completely, her head only cleared the upper bulkhead by a tenth of a meter. Directly in front of him was a food prep station, to the left was the cockpit and to the right the engine compartment. It was a tight fit even for her. He could see why you would spend most of your time in cryo on it.

Without moving, he watched as she went first to the dark cockpit and reached under the console to pull out portable console and its case. She came back to midship and pulled two duffels, one large and one small, from a compartment under the food prep station. She stood and looked at him standing in the hatchway.

"This is it," she said shouldering the portable console and duffels.


	9. Chapter 9

After Masala had locked down her craft, they returned to Riddick's ship unmolested and began the prep for lift off. He ran the systems checks, and she reviewed his more recent star charts and plotted potential courses to Quintessa.

"We could put in at Geundir for reprovisioning," she suggested turning in the copilot's seat towards him. "It's a bit off in the other direction but still less time than detouring to Ballast and not as well traveled."

"Traveled enough for our needs," he responded.

"Geundir it is then," she said as she input the course. "Since it's a short trip, I'll forgo cryo."

He said nothing, only took them into the air, blasting the engines to get them free of Furya's atmosphere. She watched as the planet fell away, once again leaving her birth world. With his peripheral, he saw a line of tension leave her shoulders. Soon the stars appeared all around them, and they were headed towards Geundir. No other ships appeared to intercept or give chase and none showed on the scans. Wherever Toombs had disappeared to, Riddick knew he was bound to show up sooner or later.

His deep voice filled the cockpit. "What's it like?"

"What is what like?"

"Leaving your home behind."

"The first time it was hard, saying goodbye to everybody, leaving everything that was comfortable and familiar. This time, though, it's just another planet I'm glad to be away from. It isn't home anymore, hasn't been for a long time."

"What is then?"

The starfield held her attention. "Out here, in the black, on the move, where the only constant is the quiet vibration of the engines and the sound of one's own thoughts."

"Is that why no cryo?"

"That," she admitted. "And Shirah usually only visits during cryo. Harder to tell her to bugger off then."

He nodded at that. It made sense. "So is she supposed to be some kind of spiritual leader or something?"

She turned a quizzical expression to him, wondering what he was after. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Curious."

She let out a bark of laughter and could not help but tease, "As curious as you seem to be, it's a wonder you're still alive, even for a Furyan. I suppose we've got time for an in depth history lesson if you want one. It might even help when dealing with the elementals."

"You got anything better to do?"

"No, can't say that I do."

Over the next two weeks, the length of time it took to travel to Geurdin, Masala told Riddick the history of Furya as she knew it with supplements from the previous Blades. She told him of the Triumvirate of Leader, Seer and Factor as well as the Council of Guilds and how, for a millennia, the Furyans were a force with which to be reckoned. How this was accomplished by only allowing those strong enough in body and mind to survive to be counted Furyans. Those not born of Furyan parents could petition to become Furyan and would be allowed to do so should they triumph over the entrance exams.

She went on to explain the difference between the Alphas and normal Furyans. Alphas were exceptionally gifted, mentally, physically and spiritually. The Alpha gift respected no blood line and could appear in any household. This was why positions of authority were not inherited but rather passed on to named successors. And the Alpha gift manifested to varying degrees, only being extremely powerful when the times called for it.

He absorbed everything she said, occasionally asking pointed, highly intelligent questions. His mind was as fierce and sharp as she knew his physical skills were. In those two weeks she came to the conclusion that the Seer had been correct in naming him the lost Leader. She could easily see him Leading Furya in returning to its former greatness. However, he was lost, lost to Furya any way. She did not believe he would willingly accept the mantle, and, as she had said to Shirah, it must be his choice.

She was contemplating this loss as the first leg of the journey was coming to a close. She was once again in the cockpit, reclined in the pilot's seat and staring, quite literally, out into space. She heard him come up behind her. She said nothing, knowing he would speak his mind in his own time.

He rested his hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "You know, Masala, in all that you've told me over the last two weeks, you've never once mentioned the function or place of the Blade in all this."

A smile creased her face. She had purposefully avoided the mention of her position. "True. That is because the Blade is both a weapon for and against the Triumvirate, but most especially the Leader."

He dropped into the copilot's seat, a frown on his face. "What do you mean?"

"There are situations were a surgical strike is needed instead of brute force, when a message needs to be delivered. That is when the assassin that is the Blade is used as such. The Blade will still take on regular contracts, but should a kill be needed to emphasize Furya's point," she explained then her tone changed as she repeated information supplied by another's memory. "In 2648, the Governor of Triana hired a platoon of Furyan's under false pretenses then refused to pay the fee once services were rendered. He was made an example of by Blade Nikolai Brenner."

Her silver green gaze sought his. "The other responsibility a Blade has is to forcibly remove a member of the Triumvirate should it become necessary. No Furyan will ever willingly take their own life; survival is too much a part of our makeup. There needs to be someone available who can do it for them. That is the Blade's ultimate duty."

"Mercy killing."

"In the case of physical incapacitation, yes but not always. It has happened that the Leader needed to be removed for the good of Furya."

He mused it over for a moment. "Is that why you insisted it had to be my choice?"

"Partially."

A smirk curved his full lips. "What, don't you think can take me?"

She snorted in amusement at the challenge. "If I had to take you out, it would be from a distance. I'm not arrogant enough to think I'd have a chance up close and personal, not unless I got really fucking lucky."

He laughed then, the sound filling the small ship. "What's the other part?"

"Choice is your right, as a Furyan, as an Alpha, especially since you are well beyond the age of majority, that is, over fifteen."

"Shirah would have gotten a lot farther if she spoke plain like you."

"I don't think she even remembers how. Maybe you should have mentioned you were educated in the penal system."

A deadly stillness came over him. This woman knew a copious amount about him, had recognized him from his last name, and now brought up his past that few alive knew. She recognized the stillness for the warning it was. With a few entered commands, she brought up a file on the copilot screen.

"It's a fascinating read," she told him. "Although, I'm sure nothing in it will surprise you."

He began skimming the file, seeing the minute details of his life in green and black, dating from his time with The Company. His voice dangerously low, he asked, "Where did you get this?"

"Someone tried to hire me to go after you, despite the fact I repeatedly said I don't do live capture, ever. He mistakenly thought that I wouldn't be able to resist the challenge."

"Who?" he growled.

"A Company colonel," she answered, closed her eyes briefly to bring the memory to the fore. " A John P. Lumis."

"Lumis," he hissed. "Mother fucker."

"Before you ask, he's dead. Cock sucker did not how to take no for answer and tried to have me killed. There isn't much that pisses me off more."

"How long ago?"

"Eleven, twelve years."

"Why'd you keep the file?"

"I didn't originally. Sent it back unread with the refusal. Took it when I killed him and just hung onto it." She gave him a wry grin. "Glad I did now."

He seemed to be weighing options behind those silver eyes of his. The grin fell away from her face, and she became as still as he was, like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap. A cold intensity descended into her eyes.

"Look, Riddick, if you're going to kill me you best start now. That'll give you time to land this beast and seek medical attention afterward, 'cause I guarantee you I will do damage before I go down."

He had been weighing his options, whether or not it would be necessary to kill her. She knew a hell of a lot about him, but she did not seem the kind to narc. Would not use the information unless it was to her advantage, and he could not figure anything that might be to her advantage regarding him. She did not need or want the payday. And she had had plenty of time to make a play if she had changed her mind about live capture. She was also a link to his past, where he came from. He did not know why that mattered, but it did.

There was something else. This last two weeks, while she had told him about Furya, they had been careful to avoid even the most casual contact. Neither had spoken of the reasons why or why not, yet under silent agreement every movement was precise, anything handed between them was done in a way so that not even their fingers would brush. She stirred a feeling within him, not lust though it had been longer than he cared to remember since he had been with a woman. He had avoided thinking about that feeling. It unsettled him. It was not the protective instinct he had towards Jack. This woman did not need protecting.

Her last statement made that clear. She was not afraid of dying or of him killing her, but she would absolutely not go down without a fight. And she had skills; he would have to work for the kill. And she could get a lucky shot in, and they would both end up ghosted. He knew everyone had to die sometime, but it was not his time, and therefore not hers either.

He released the tension in his body, letting his muscles relax, and saw her respond in a likewise manner. She had been ready to fight him if necessary. A slow smile of appreciation spread across his face, but what he did next surprised even him. He closed the small space between them in the blink of an eye and had his mouth pressed to hers, kissing her roughly as the pulse passed between them. She responded in kind, eagerly tasting him before stopping abruptly. He felt the prick of a blade at his neck, and she pushed them apart. A war raged in her eyes and a hint of fear. The fear caught him off guard. _Interesting._

"I have to be sure the desire is my own," she said in a hoarse whisper.

He backed off, watching her face with interest as she fought her internal battle. He knew by her scent what her body wanted, but her mind overruled it. She purposefully took control back, shut it down, bit by bit. Anyone but him would have missed the transformation entirely. He would have if he had not been closely observing. The scent of woman's musk hung in the air but it was dissipating. She backed out of the cockpit, the long war dagger still at the ready, then she turned and was quickly out of sight down the corridor. His shining gaze followed her as long as it could.

He pondered what had just happened, unconsciously licking his lips as he thought of the taste of her mouth. An alarm from the console brought him out of the reverie. A glance down told him they were settling into orbit over Geundir. He settled into the pilot's chair and began the descent calculations. Once those were done, he slipped his goggled over his eyes and took the craft down, headed for Horace, what passed as Geundir's capital city.


	10. Chapter 10

The weather systems being fairly stable Riddick did not have to concentrate too hard on getting the ship down through the atmosphere. He let part of his mind wander and wondered again at the flash of fear he had seen in her eyes and what might have caused it. She had already demonstrated she was not afraid of him. And then there was what she said. It was all very interesting.

From behind his dark lenses he had watched her as she told him of her world and its history. Her mannerisms and tone indicated no subterfuge. She only had that odd look when the information was recalled from a memory not her own. He asked probing questions, and she answered without hesitation but not without thought. There was an amazing amount of knowledge in her head, so much so that he guessed she was much more educated than the average Furyan. She spoke plainly, comfortably and easily conversing in a style commonly found among soldiering types, yet, in the graveyard, with Shirah and the other spirits her speech had been more elaborate and formal. She was a study in contradictions and incongruencies.

His unseen eyes narrowed as thought of all these things and what they meant. It had been a long time since he had had a chance to study anyone at leisure, like a predator stalking its prey or sizing up another predator. She had been calm, cool and in complete control since their first meeting. She had smiled and laughed and frowned and cursed but there had been very little deep emotion behind any of it, even with the mercs who had been trying to jack her ship.

Almost no emotion until that flash of fear…how very interesting…

He set the ship down gently, like a mother laying her babe down for a nap. As his hands moved to shut down the systems, his head turned ever so slightly to listen for other sounds on the ship. The quiet whoosh of the door seemed almost deafening in the quiet, but there were no footsteps, not that he expected any. He rose from his seat and timed his passage back to the hatch to arrive when she did.

He returned her nod with one of his own and a smirk that played around his lips which she purposefully ignored. He watched her as she stared across the spaceport. Her face betrayed nothing, but he could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"Have you been here before?" he asked.

He knew she had not expected him to speak. He saw her swallow before answering.

Back in her cabin, Masala cursed herself for a fool. He had completely caught her by surprise, and she had run like a scared rabbit. She did not run from anything. Her heart was thumping at a thunderous rate and her hands were shaking. What the hell was wrong with her? He was certainly not the first man to come on to her, even if he was the first live Furyan she had seen since Mattias had died. Hell, she had not even reacted to Mattias that way. There had been no great spark between her and Mattias, and Mattias had been an Alpha as well. She growled in frustration.

There was that bizarre pulse that passed between them even when they just brushed up against each other. The knowledge of her predecessors saying it was a survival of the race kind of thing. How could she trust that it was just a matter of mutual attraction, and not some sort of manipulation on Shirah's part? A part of her wished she could wrap her hands around Shirah's throat and tell her to cut it the hell out.

Then again, perhaps, it had just been too long of a drought. There were places in Horace where she could fix that, one place in particular. She determined to go there once her other planet-side business was taken care of. The ship's water, waste and cryo systems needed a flush and priming, and the battery charges needed to be refreshed. Once those processes were in progress she would find a tailor and a market as well as pay a visit to the Guildhouse, if it still stood, then to see Christine.

She slung her pack over her shoulder as she felt the ship touchdown and made her way to the hatch. She was palming it open when Riddick appeared in the corridor. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement, not yet trusting herself to speak. From the vantage point of the top of the ramp she looked out over the spaceport. It was kept in good condition despite the relatively few travelers that visited anymore. The sight was comforting. Despite the hardships that had to have occurred over the last thirty-five years, they maintained their spaceport. The city beyond was a slightly different story.

Horace and Geundir had seen better days, back before the purge of Furya. It had been a stop for those looking to do business with Furya, close enough for fairly quick communications yet far enough away to go unnoticed by the Necros when Furya was devastated. Those that lived here scraped by on what they could grow and scavenge and trade from those who bothered to make the stop. Still, the inhabitants were not without skills. They had to be to keep their own equipment running. And some still held hope that Furya would rise once again. Little did they know that the newest arrivals would give that hope substance.

"Have you been here before?" Riddick asked.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and answered. "Yes, but it's been awhile. Undoubtedly some of the people have changed."

"Looks like the spaceport is well maintained."

"Yes, it's a good sign."

"Are you just going to stand there?"

"Hmm, oh, right."

She headed down the ramp and began walking across the tarmac towards the spaceport's buildings. After closing the hatch, he caught up and walked beside her. They appeared as nothing more than crewmates. Geundir's atmosphere was thin, and its distance from its sun kept it on the cool side. This served Masala and Riddick well as their hooded cloaks did not look out of place. A door in one of the buildings swung open as they approached, disgorging an older man and two youngsters, boy and girl all in coveralls.

"Can we help ya?" the man asked.

"Need some PM work done on the ship there as well as topping off the charges," Masala answered, her eyes reading the lines in the man's weathered face, guessing he might be old enough to remember Furya in its hey day.

"We can take care of that for ya," he said. "Me and my kids. Name's Blake."

While Riddick stood by impassively, Masala spent several minutes discussing with Blake what all needed to be done and the charges for it. Like any prudent businessman on a planet that did not get much business, he requested half up front. She passed the UDs over without question, but kept her hand on top of the stack. A ring Riddick had not seen before flashed in the light. The flash caught Blake's attention, and he looked down. His eyes grew large as he recognized the emblem on the ring.

Blake peered closely at Masala then his eyes went to the big man at her side. Many questions crossed his face, but he asked none of them. Instead he said, "M'lady Guilder, we will work as quickly as we can. I estimate it will take about 12 standard hours."

"Thank you, Blake. We will likely be sending supplies back to the ship from town. Leave them in the slip for us."

"Yes, M'lady Guilder."

Blake sketched a bow towards her and turned towards his kids. He sent them running for equipment and tools and followed them.

Riddick titled his head towards her. "M'Lady Guilder? And what's with the ring?"

"M'Lady Guilder is because he does not know my name. And the ring is the signet of the Assassins Guild."

"Why did you _not_ give him your name?" Curious again as evidenced by the tone his question, not that he thought she should have, he just wanted to know why.

"Seeing the ring made him nervous enough. The last thing he wants to know is my name," she told him, smiling without mirth. "And he will make sure nothing of ours is touched, as if his very life depended on it."

"How would he know about your Guild?"

"Remember I said it was located off-world? This is where our primary Guild House is, or was. At guess, he's at least 50, maybe older, old enough to remember when Furyans were frequent visitors here. Luckily for Geundir, the Necros didn't ask questions. I may very well be the only Guilder left."

"And if you are the only one left?"

She shrugged and gave him a pointed look. "I used to think I was the only Furyan left... We have twelve hours to kill. If I leave you to your own devices will Toombs try to snatch you?"

He shrugged.

"You just like fucking with him, don't you?"

A corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Come on, then. I should at least check the Guild House."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you to those who continue on with me in this journey.

* * *

Even if her own memory of the way to the Guild House was faulty, she had many generations of memories to fall back on. It was not far from the spaceport, tucked into an industrial warehouse area in a non-descript building among many non-descript buildings. Though she moved through the streets with a casual air, her senses were on alert. There were still those who hunted Furyans.

Riddick's tall frame loomed beside her, as quiet and dark and stealthy as any shadow. His unseen gaze took in all about them, observing and taking in the lay of the land. He noted the tension in her; it had arisen the moment they left the spaceport. It was the air of someone being hunted, something he himself was quite familiar with. He was both predator and prey. It was now evident that she was as well, and he wondered at that.

Something in her stance shifted as she came close to one building. He watched as she brushed the door with the fingers of her left hand. There was the briefest flicker of reaction under her touch, something that would have been missed entirely by most. She canted her head then slipped around the edge of the building into a narrow alleyway littered with refuse.

The roofs stretched out towards each other, almost touching and blocking out nearly all the ambient light. Patches of darkness in the deeper shadows seemed to waver. Fully inside the alley, he pushed his goggles up. She moved further into the darkness without hesitation, without stumbling over or into anything. He lets his eyes rove and saw the pattern she followed, steps precisely placed in a seemingly random pattern that let her avoid obstacles and questionable footing.

She vanished into the third patch of darkness. In the barest of whispers, she asked, "Are you coming?"

He followed the same path she had taken, saw the faded outline of her form in the darkness and came to stand behind her. She held her hand out to him, and he grasped it, the pulse passing between them like an ache. Her hand clenched around his and tugged. He stepped in time with her, just once. There was a soft whoosh of air behind them, and they were submerged in absolute darkness.

A mechanical voice surrounded them. "Confirming identification. Gorgona Masala, Guilder, confirmed. Companion, Furyan male, unknown. Please identify."

"Richard B. Riddick, guest," Masala answered.

"Initiate?" it asked.

"No. Lights fifteen percent all areas. Open interior."

The area brightened gradually allowing their eyes to adjust. They were in a small foyer no more than a meter by a meter and a half. There was no furniture of any kind, only the hint of a doorway at their back and before them. The one before them slid open to reveal a large circular room with a polished wood floor and seating lining the walls. There were breaks in the seating where they stood, exactly opposite them and directly perpendicular.

Riddick began a slow, stalking inspection of the Round as the mechanical voice spoke again. "Report status."

"Status active," she answered. "Request status of all known active Guilders , last report in and method of report."

Her eyes followed Riddick as she listened to the computer's report. It was painfully short. Other than herself only one other was listed as active but no report had even been relayed by that one in over ten years. And there was one more thing it needed to record.

"Update designation for Masala to Blade."

"Updated. Formal garments are available in the Quartermasters. "

"Understood."

Riddick had made the circuit twice and come to stand beside her. He asked, "Training area?"

"Primarily. Also used for gatherings of all natures."

"What's through the other doorways?"

"Quartermasters and offices. Mess and sleeping quarters. Armory," she explained indicating each in turn, then sighed, "I should get the Formals. Might need them on Quintessa. Dress to impress and all that crap."

"Masala," he said her name softly, like a caress. "When you said you had to be sure your desires were your own, what did you mean?"

She had gone completely still when he said her name like that, and only through sheer force of will, did not turn to him. The question he asked brought forth why she fought so hard not to want him.

"Shirah," she said through clenched teeth. "For five years Shirah put images, visions of you in my head. For five years I dreamt of you every minute. It is not impossible that _other_ suggestions were made."

"I had no such …dreams. Is it impossible that other suggestions were _not _made?"

She did face him then, slowly raising her eyes to meet his. The conflict he had seen there before shone once again. "No, it is not, but I do not know which it is, and until I am sure…." Her eyes flicked away briefly before she continued. "If you really want it that badly, Riddick, you will have to take it by force. I'll not fight you, but I won't give it to you either."

He scowled. He did want it, but not like that. There would be no pleasure in it. He was no rapist. The thought sickened him, yes, him, the cold blooded killer. He stepped away from her, withdrawing his presence. There was also the thought that Shirah had manipulated this, and that did not sit well with him either. He was no one's pawn.

"I'm going to get the supplies," he growled then turned and swiftly went out the way they had come in.

She did not move until she was sure he was gone. She let out the breath she had been holding and visibly sagged as she admitted to the empty room, "I've never wanted anything so badly in my life and that scares the hell out of me."

* * *

The doors barely opened in time to allow him passage. He passed out of the building and alley into the street, a scowl still etched across his features. With veritable thunder hanging about his head and shoulders, he made his way to the marketplace to acquire their needed supplies. The normally haggling vendors made no effort to do so, merely wanting the dark, intimidating figure aware from their wares and out of their stores. They were more than happy to have whatever he asked for delivered to the indicated slip without extra charges as long as it got him away quickly.

The supplies were in route to the ship, and he still had hours to while away. He stood in the shadowed corner of one building, his silvery gaze sweeping the street. He spied an establishment that seemed to suit his mood and headed for it. As he approached the door swung open disgorging an inebriated couple as well as loud music and flashing lights. He kept walking and passed it without further consideration.

He moved through the streets, silent and near unseen. Those who did see him purposefully forgot his presence. His steps seemed to be aimless and directed all the same. He almost wished for a merc looking for a payday to show up. Frustrated, he vaulted to a rooftop and sunk into the shadows there, putting his back against a chimney.

Night was coming on and street lamps began to flicker to life. He watched without seeing, turning contemplative, considering Masala's words and this odd feeling he had for her that was more than physical attraction. He knew that she was attracted to him; he had smelled it on her. She did not deny it but had refused to act on it, to give in to it. He inspected every facet of their conversations from the day they had first met and saw the pattern that concerned her. Was she being used as a lure to get him to do Shirah's bidding?

He had had worse offers; that was certain.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N:

Elizabeth: thank you for the kinds words. I am enjoying these two.

Linda, thank you for the continuing encouragement. I appreciate you taking the time to write a review.

For my silent readers: I hope you are enjoying the journey

* * *

The ship and Furyan business part out of the way, Masala headed to take care of the personal business part. She did not know what he had been playing at with that kiss, but she sure as hell did not like the way she reacted to it. She had barely been able to pull away. The mere memory of it tormented her and led to other thoughts, imagining what his skin would feel like under her hands and what his hands would feel like running over her curves and his mouth following the path of his hands. She blew out a rough breath and tried to clear her head of such things.

And then there was their brief conversation at the Guild House. She had thought, for a moment, he might actually try to take her by force, but his face had darkened at the suggestion of it. He had mercifully taken his tempting presence away from her. Damn Shirah for making her doubt herself.

She had thought of one way she might be able to deal with these urges. Her feet took her unerringly through the streets to a district marked by its red lamps. She knew the place she wanted and found it easily enough, noiselessly slipping in the side door and through the thick curtain hung inside of it.

The older woman with blue grey hair stylishly done up sat behind the ornate desk. She looked up in surprise as the curtain moved aside and stared at Masala for a long moment. "My god, Geeg, is that really you?"

"Hello, Christine," Masala greeted warmly.

Christine rose from her desk and came around to envelope Masala in a tight hug. "My god, look at you. You've hardly aged…"

"Spent a lot of time in the freezer traveling."

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but you shouldn't be here. It's not safe for you. It's too close to Furya. Furyans are still being hunted."

"That is coming to an end," she told her. "Zhylaw is dead, and the new Lord Marshall won't be hunting his own people."

"The prophecy…it has come to pass?"

"It has. Furya is rising. And look here…" Masala brought her arms up to show Christine the Mark of the Blade.

"Figured Matti would pick you. He always did say you were his star pupil. How long has he been gone?"

"Eighteen years."

"You've been Blade eighteen years and are just now coming to see me?"

"No, I've only been Blade for two weeks. Had to return to Furya to accept."

Masala had said it so nonchalantly that Christine almost missed it. "You've been _on_ Furya?"

She nodded. "But that's not what I'm here about. I'm here on a more personal matter."

Christine's head tilted and one perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. "You're looking to sample the wares?"

"That was the idea. You do have something beyond those pretty boys don't you? I'm in need of some extra special attention."

"And someone you won't break on accident?" Christine asked.

"Yes," Masala admitted.

"I think have a body or two that might suit you. Come along, see if there's something that strikes your fancy."

She followed Christine down a hallway, through the main parlor and into a side parlor. There the males of the establishment reclined and amused themselves. This was their lounge, a place customers did not usually come into, so Masala had their undivided attention. It was not hard to choose; mostly they were pretty boys, slim and fit but not what she needed. There were three, however, who were prime physical specimens, tall, broad shouldered, heavily muscled. She mentioned them to Christine who gave her an inquiring look.

"Not since Mattias died. And there's someone I need to try to forget, for at least a little while."

Both brows rose at that. "I'll have food and drink sent up, too, more for them than you I think."

She smiled her appreciation, and Christine motioned to the three to go with her. Masala happened to glance down the hallway as she and the men went through another doorway, her eye caught by another customer. The hooded cloak hid him, but he was a big man and moved with a familiar grace. He seemed to sense she was watching him and turned his head towards her. She could have sworn that she saw the light glint off of goggle lenses just before she entered the room.

* * *

He had stayed on that roof until well after nightfall, contemplatively observing. This world had been linked to Furya for generations, or so she had said. Another link to a past he did not remember. He wondered if its people or their routines would give him any further insight. It was an odd thought to no longer be completely alone in the universe.

What went on in the street below was no different than any other world past its prime. The citizenry moved with the same indifference to the universe at large. Each was only concerned with their own meandering lives whether they were respectable folks or not. He smirked in the shadows. The more things changed the more things stayed the same.

He laughed at himself and his own introspection then jumped down from the roof to go look for some entertainment. He found a dimly lit bar that was none to choosy about its clientele as long as they had the UDs to spend. He settled himself into a deeper shadow in a dark corner among the turned down or burnt out lamps and availed himself of their self-made liquor which was surprisingly good. No one paid him any heed, and no one bothered him. He did not even warrant the wary glances normally given to strangers. No one here cared that much. And that suited him just fine. He spent a couple hours there, listening to the conversation of the locals, picking out things that interested him, even if only in passing.

He paid his account current and wandered out into the night, following the route instinct laid down before him. It was not a far or long way before he found himself among the red tinted streets of an entertainment district. Criers, windows and videos proclaimed the wares of each establishment, all but one. That was the one he chose, quietly sliding in through the front door. He was greeted by an androgynous fellow of indeterminate age.

"What is your pleasure, sir?" he asked in a contralto that gave no hint if the masculine pronoun was accurate or not.

_Sir?_ He guessed this one would call anyone who entered sir as a matter of good business.

"A woman," Riddick said.

"With any particular features, sir, or will any female of adult age do?"

He considered a moment. "Dark hair, light eyes, with an ass that won't quit."

"Very good, sir. I'll be just a moment."

Good to his word, the fellow was gone only a moment. When he returned he had five women trailing him. One detached herself from the group and unabashedly approached Riddick giving him the eye. He smirked as leaned over to sniff at her. She did not flinch, instead leaned in towards him. She knew her business, an absolute professional. That was not a bad thing and saved him the bother of choosing. He nodded at the fellow who sent the others away.

She led him to a room on an upper floor. He felt eyes on him and half turned, looking down the hallway. The woman looking at him was all but hidden by the large men around her but he saw enough of her to recognize her. It amused him to see her here, but it irritated him too. It should not; it was not his concern, but it did.

As he availed himself of his puchased companionship, he heard her call out his name. Though the privacy barriers made it impossible, he heard it none the less. He growled in response, redoubling his efforts at his own satisfaction, knowing she could take it. Except it was not her; the bought woman cried out involuntarily as he finished then curled up protectively when he removed himself from her. He grimaced. He had not meant to damage her.

With what would seem uncharacteristic gentleness, Riddick covered her with the linens, tucking them under her chin. There was no reproach in her face, only understanding, and that struck him deeper than he was willing to admit, especially to himself. He gathered himself together then left the room in search of the fellow to tell him that she would need medical attention.

The fellow raised an eyebrow at him and asked if he would like to have a drink in the parlor while he checked on her. He figured that he might as well. He still had some time to kill and nothing better to do. It was an old world style bar of dark stained wood and a mirrored wall lined with bottle filled shelves. He lowered his large frame onto a bar stool and ordered up whiskey. The barkeep poured a glass and put it and the bottle in front of him.

He was halfway through the fourth glass when he heard her voice and that of another woman discussing the injured party.

"Where, Christine?" she asked.

Her scent preceded her; cloves and cinnamon now mixed with sex. Growling, he looked up into the mirror to watch for her. She appeared with an older woman who indicated him with her eyes.

Masala saw him and shook her head. "No. If he had done it on purpose, she'd be dead."

The woman she called Christine looked at her oddly. "Is that-?"

"Yes."

"Did it work?"

"Not really," she sighed.

She walked away from Christine and came to stand by Riddick. "Is there enough in that bottle for me?"

Without looking directly at her, he waved at the seat next to him and pushed the whiskey over. "You keep drinking all my booze."

She dropped down next to him, leaned an arm on the bar and drank straight from the bottle. "I'll buy you more."

"Did what work?"

"I was attempting to forget something."

"Hmmmm."

She cut her eyes at him. "I know you heard...just like I felt you growl. And, I suspect, your beast is not sated either."

He shrugged and drank some more then asked, "Shirah?"

It was her turn to shrug. "Don't know. Maybe."

"What do the others say?"

"Haven't asked. Not sure I want to know."

Their conversation dropped away. They stayed there at the bar, passing the whiskey back and forth, signalling for new bottles as needed. As much as it tormented them both to be that close, neither was willing to move away. They had become familiar with each other, and it offered a small measure of comfort in what both knew to be a cold and brutal universe.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N:

A special thanks to Linda who keeps giving the love.

CoF93, glad to see you are still reading.

If you found this story from a link posted on FaceBook, would you drop me a note and let me know either here in the comments or on Facebook itself (Ividia Kt) along with who shared the link.

* * *

The last delivery, four cases of assorted alcoholic beverages, arrived as they did. With the help offered by Blake and his kids it did not take long to get their purchases stowed on the ship. Masala settled their account with the mechanic and tucked in a bit extra. Soon the ship was up and away and out in space, headed for the elemental home world, with both occupants settled into cryo, each with their own reasons.

They say your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep, all but the primitive side, all but the animal side, all but the Furyan side...

_Riddick opened his eyes to a world he did not know, yet it seemed familiar. The softly undulating hills were covered with lush grasses and dotted with scattered copses of trees and bushes. The light seemed dim enough to not blind him so he raised his hands to push ups his goggles, and found they were not there. He turned, scanning the surrounding countryside and saw a figure standing atop a nearby rise._

_As he approached he saw that it was Masala. She had her back to him. Her arms hung loosely but her hands were clenched into fists. Her attention was riveted on something beyond. As he came up beside her the vast bustling city caught his attention as well though he did notice the tension in her jaw._

"_What is this place?" he asked._

"_Etna, capital city of Furya" she replied, then turned her emerald green eyes to him. "As it was in my youth."_

"_Did you bring us here?"_

_Before she could answer a small girl ran by them, hair flying, her expression intense. She had a dagger clenched in her tiny fist. They watched her vanish into a stand of trees. A group of older children came running by, the boy in the lead called out, "I'll find you, Gorgy, and then I'm going to kick your little ass."_

_When Riddick moved to intervene Masala stopped him. _

"_You can't help. This is the past," she said then shouted at the sky, "Why, Shirah? What's the fucking point? I don't need to see this. I know what happens."_

_But there was no answer, and the scene continued to play out. The chasers did a brief inspection of the trees she had disappeared into before continuing on, all except one. Several minutes later she jumped from one of the trees and headed back the way she had come. _

_The leader had apparently been expecting something of the sort and had hung back. His longer stride enabled him to catch up and tackle her to the ground. She twisted as she fell and struck out with the dagger, catching the older boy across the face. He cried out in pain and anger but loosened his grip long enough for her to scramble to her feet. She did not continue running but turned to face him. The two circled each other then struck simultaneously. _

_Then everything about Riddick and Masala shifted and changed. Now they were in a city amongst towering columns and stone archways. The people they saw were all staring skyward, confusion plain on their faces. The pair followed their gaze to ships above._

"_What city is this?" Riddick asked, something about the buildings striking a chord within him._

"_Helene I think," Masala answered._

_There was a large explosion in the distance, and the hovering ships began to disgorge fighters that strafed the city killing many. Then troops landed and began to slaughter the remaining populace. Men, women and children fought valiantly against the invaders, but their numbers were too great. A woman far into her pregnancy stumbled past them and fell. _

_Riddick tensed at a sudden sense of foreboding as he watched the woman pull herself to her feet, one hand placed protectively over her swollen belly. The enemy soldiers tromped towards her and caught her. A voice called out for them to hold as they prepared to strike her down._

_He knew that voice. He growled. _

_A young Zhylaw appeared. A evil smile twisted his face as he drew his blade and approached her. She struggled against her captors to no avail, but she did not beg or plead to be spared. Her eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. She cried out as his blade sliced through her clothing and abdomen. He reached in and pulled child free and inspected it, then took the umbilical cord and wrapped it around the boy's neck choking him._

_Beside Riddick, Masala gasped and wrapped her arms tightly around her own stomach. _

_Zhylaw turned as another handed him a rag to wipe the blood from his hands. He clapped the other on the shoulder and waved him to come along. As the future Lord Marshall moved away, the man came into full view. His face could be seen beneath the open helmet. He had eyes like Masala, and a scar bisected his face crossing both cheeks and the bridge of his nose._

"_Bastard," she spat._

_Another shift, and they were standing in the massive graveyard where Shirah 'lived'. These graves were freshly dug though. And that graveyard was overlaid with many others. Burial sites from all over Furya were shown to them. The sun and moon cycles sped by, aging the graves until they were as Riddick and Masala had seen them before beginning this journey._

"_What the hell?" Masala wondered._

_Riddick had no more idea than she, perhaps even less, and only shook his head._

_The scenery changed again, and they were once more on the rise where he had first seen her. The foliage was not as dense, some appearing freshly planted. Prefab buildings were out the outer edge of the ruined city bordering the fields. People moved about the structures, but it was too far for their actions to be clear._

_The noticed Shirah climbing the hill towards them. Neither welcomed her presence. _

_Riddick spoke first. "What the fuck do you want?" _

_She addressed him more than Masala. "Our people wish to thrive again. Will you not help rebuild your world?"_

"_Not my fight."_

_Shirah gave him a steely gaze, then turned to Masala. "And what of you, Master Assassin?"_

"_I have accepted my part in Furya's revival," Masala answered._

"_Not _all_ of it."_

"_Just what do you mean by that?"_

_Shirah opened her mouth to respond..._

Masala jerked awake as she came out of cryo sleep. _Damn it all._ It had appeared that she was going to get a straight answer out of Shirah for once. The locker door opened, and she stepped down to the deck then turned to look at the man in the next locker. She had a nagging feeling that whatever Shirah had meant had something to do with him.

He was not due to wake fully for another hour or so. She put her hand on the plexi-glass separating them and spent an unguarded moment wishing things were different. With a heavy sigh, she turned away and went to her cabin.

The vision released him as soon as he turned down Shirah. He opened his eyes in time to see Masala step out of her locker. He was not sure why he had woken early, but stayed still as she came to his cryo locker. He saw a wistful expression cross her face as she pressed her hand against the glass. He watched her walk away with curiosity and waited until she was out of sight before releasing himself from the locker.

His footsteps were quiet as he moved through the ship to the cockpit and settled down to make the atmospheric entry calculations. His mind was only half on his task as he thought back over the vision. He wondered if that had actually been a shared vision or if it was another one of Shirah's tricks.

They were entering the atmosphere when Masala appeared in the cockpit and sank into the co-pilot's chair.

"Have you requested permission to land or are we just going to barge in?"

His response was a devilish smile which she could not help but answer with one of her own, and she wisely buckled her seat belt. As to be expected, they were challenged by the local craft. Not one to back down from a challenge, Riddick outmaneuvered them and left them chasing their own vapor trails.

Masala laughed and pointed out a structure of towering spires. "There, that should be their primary government building."

With only a small bit of showboating Riddick landed the ship right in front of what appeared to be the main entrance point. Elementals swarmed the ship from every direction.

"Now that you've got their attention," she told him. "I'll go win their hearts...or cut them out."

As she unbuckled and rose, he turned his chair noting the different garb she wore. It was functional like her other clothing yet the fabric, though still black, was finer and had intricate patterns woven into it. Her only visible weapons were the black blades. His eyebrows rose but he said nothing.

At the hatch, he stood back out of view as it cycled opened, content to watch the show. She took one step out of the hatch and stood at the top of the ramp. Her voice was strong and carried easily across the gathered crowd. "I am Gorgona Masala, Master Assassin and Blade of Furya. I seek the one called Aereon."

A ripple of disbelief passed the the elementals. A fire elemental came forward, the edges of him flickering orange.

"Impossible," he challenged. "Furya was destroyed. Her people are no more."

She speared him with her coldest gaze. "If all Furyans were destroyed, who buried our dead. You, the elementals, who caused our destruction with your calculations and prophecies? I think not. Where is this Aereon?"

A white haired woman glided forward to the foot of the ramp. "I am Aereon. What is you want of me, you who claim to be Furyan?"

Masala walked down the ramp to come face to face with the air elemental. "You have met another Furyan, Aereon. Look into my eyes, you will see in me what you saw in him. Know that I _am_ Furya."

Aereon did study her face and eyes and slowly nodded, then asked, "You have seen him, met him?"

"I have. I understand a bounty was issued for him from Quintessa. Was it you who issued it?"

"Yes. Have you brought him to us?"

"No," Masala replied, smiling at Aereon's falling countenance. "He brought me."

Recognizing his cue, the Furyan male appeared in the hatchway and came down the ramp to stand behind the assassin. His deep voice rumbled, "Who does she need to kill to get this bounty off my head?"

Masala's black blades were at Aereon's throat. "Yes, who?"

Aereon smiled and put her hand to the blades. "There is no need. The offer will be rescinded. We found something of yours, Riddick."

"You couldn't have just sent a message?" he asked.

"Would you have responded?"

He shrugged. "You may have a point. Masala."

She lowered her blades, sheathed them and stepped back.

Aereon looked to Riddick. "If you'll come with me, I will show you what it is. Blade of Furya, I believe you have business you wish to discuss with our council."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This update has been a bit longer in the coming as the elementals were being difficult (not that that is anything new for elelmentals). Thank you for your patience! :)

Linda and Cathy, thank you for your continued support and reviews.

Adastrea, glad to know you are still with us.

Jade121, welcome to our world of Riddick

ChildofFury93 and prettytightkid, I hope you are still with us

* * *

Riddick saw Masala shift her shoulders and power, for there was no other way to describe it, wrapped around her. She shimmered with it, like the pale blue hand print that marked them both, and it mingled with and increased the strength of her scent. Her authority and Furyan pride lay like a mantle about her shoulders.

A smirk played around his lips as he watched the throng part for her as she strode forward toward the entrance to the council chambers. He stared after her long past the time she disappeared inside. If all the women of Furya had been like her, hell, even if only quarter of them were, the universe was much poorer place for their loss.

When he turned to Aereon she wore a interested, calculating expression.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, stop. Now what is it of mine that you claim to have found?"

With practiced ease she schooled her features into equanimity. "It is simpler if I show you. Please...come with me."

Aereon led him through the maze of twisting turns that was the elementals' capital city. They continued up to an outer cluster of spires that seemed to be the highest of them all. She paused at the doorway and turned to him.

"This is my home, Riddick," she said deferentially. "I thought it best to be kept here to avoid … inquiries. You are welcome any time during your stay with us."

Her odd behavior caused him to be wary as she led him inside and to a sealed room on the bottom floor. She withdrew an old fashioned key from her sleeve and used it to unlocked the door. The door swung silently open exposing a cool and dimly lit room. When he made no more to enter, she flowed into the room to stand by the only thing it held.

"I assure you, Riddick, there is no trap here," she told him then turned and placed her hand on a smooth, shiny surface behind her. "Only this."

He stood silent in the doorway for many long moments looking at the object which Aereon stood before. Four quick steps brought him to it, and he laid his hands on the smooth ebony surface. Though the light was low enough to not interfere with his sight, he chose not to remove the goggles.

Aereon made to leave him alone but his voice halted her steps.

In a tone rough with suppressed emotion he asked, "Where did you find it?"

"We discovered it drifting into our system when I returned from Helion Prime," she answered, compassion coloring her speech. "I thought I recognized it and had it brought here. I did not expect what I found. Odds are good that you will not either."

His head turned ever so slightly in her direction, puzzling at her words.

"I will leave you now."

Riddick did not watch her go. Instead, the black surface beneath his hands held his attention. Time passed as he stood there, how much he did not know, but he eventually had to move, at least to shift position. He slid a hand down to the side and deactivated the latching mechanism. Drawing a single deep breath he pushed the lid aside and looked inside. Now he understood Aereon's cryptic statement about the odds. He did not expect to see what he did.

Had anyone been watching him, they would have seen him push the goggles up just long enough to swipe at his eyes. He stilled an impulse to reach in to the container and replaced the lid, refastening it. With heavy steps he left the room, closing the door behind him. He saw that Aereon had left the key in the lock. He turned it, locking the door, then pocketed the key. He proceeded to move through her house, searching for her.

"In here, Riddick," she called to him, seemingly sensing the stirring of air his movement caused.

Aereon was in a small sitting area with food and drink laid out on the table. She handed him a tumbler of amber liquid which he downed without a second thought. He set the glass down and asked, "How?"

"We do not know."

"What are the odds of that?" he asked this time with sarcasm.

Utterly serious, she replied, "Incalculable."

That was something rarely if ever heard from any elemental.

She continued, "We have reviewed all our calculations time and again. It is an anomaly we cannot account for, in past, present or future. Our futures, all of us, not just elementals, are unclear. No path shows itself, choices are murky at best. We are unprepared for this."

"So now you're just like the rest of us?"

"I suppose we are. It is unsettling," she admitted.

* * *

It was something Masala had learned as a child, how to draw herself up and project authority. It had come easily to her then, and it did so now. What she had not had before was the near physical manifestation of that authority. She felt the cloak of power wrap about her and could just see the shimmering from the corner of her eye. She guessed it was because of her new status, and she felt a murmur of agreement from her predecessors.

Here she was in Quintessan Council Chamber representing Furya. As far as she knew she was the only living Furyan official. She knew Shirah existed but did not consider that living. And now the Elemental Council was arrayed before her. They numbered five and represented Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Ether. Various rettainers attended them.

They spoke among themselves with one gesturing to her every once in a while. So far no one had addressed her directly. She would stand no more. The murmur of voices from the council chamber was overrode by Masala's strident tones.

"You _will_ cease all machinations where Furya is concerned. Our fate is not yours to orchestrate...or to calculate."

Water spoke first, "But you said your people bore us no ill will."

"For a past decision, offering up our world to spare your own," she responded. "We will not idly stand by for a recurrence."

"But Shirah..." Earth began.

That was no way to win an argument with Masala.

"Shirah does not hold sway. She is an adviser to our Leader as is our Factor. We are _not _a theocracy."

Frowning, Ether spoke this time, "We were assured you, all Furyans, would follow her lead, do as your Seer said."

"If she and you expected obedience without question you should have _joined_ the Necros."

There was an audible gasp that ran through the room followed by a snort of amusement from Fire who began clapping.

"Very good, Master Assassin," he said evenly. "You have made your point. I am Ferrous. Would you be willing to converse with me one on one? Perhaps we could come to an understanding."

Masala acquiesced, and Ferrous led her to a small side chamber.

"May I offer you refreshment?" he asked indicating a sidebar with assorted fruits, cheeses, water and light wine.

_And so the political dance begins, _she thought but thanked him for his hospitality before making a show of taking some fruit and cheese as well as a goblet of chilled wine. She the food and drink and sat at the small conference table. "What is it that you seek to convince me of?"

He smiled. Of all the elementals, the Fires most appreciated directness. "We cannot leave Furya out of our calculations. Your homeworld's role is too important to the future of the universe."

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before offering us up as a sacrifice," she replied in the same vein.

"It was a calculated risk."

"I gathered that. It does make one wonder, though, what might have happened if all Furyan's had been actively enlisted in the war instead of a single child who might not have survived. How many other worlds might have been saved?"

"It was calculated that not even all the might of Furya could halt the march of Necromongers."

Her brows rose at that. "But a _single_ child could? Those are quite steep odds, even for your people. How is it that he _did _survive? Was one of you watching him all these years?"

Ferrous looked at her with a new respect. "You are very perceptive, Furyan."

"For a Furyan you mean?" A wry grin twisted her mouth. "I am an assassin. It behooves me in my line of work to be perceptive."

He conceded the point with graciousness. "Would you be willing to sit on the Council of Worlds? We could use your temerity."

"More than my temerity, I think," she answered then paused to take a bite of fruit. "Even if I were, Furyan business calls me elsewhere."

"Then, perhaps Riddick would be willing..."

She could not help the laugh that burst forth, knowing that the man in question would never even consider it, and if he did, he would be running the place in no time. "Good luck with that, Councilor."

He frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"He has already turned down the Leadership of Furya. I do not believe he will be predisposed to represent us in any fashion."

"But he avenged your people. He killed the man who brought destruction upon your world."

"Technically, he did kill the sword wielder, yes, but he did it for his own reasons which had nothing to do with Furya. And before you ask, I do not know what they were, and it would not be my place to tell you even if I did...And, truly, should not the prophecy giver also be held responsible for what occurred on Furya?"

Ferrous looked aghast. "Surely you are not suggesting..."

She let him sweat for a bit before answering, "I understand what was done, even if I do not appreciate it. And in that I speak for myself and not Furya. I cannot say if others will be as...understanding."

"Others?"

"Others. Like the phoenix, Furya is rising from the ashes, and we will once again be a force with which to be reckoned. I suggest you input _that _into your calculations."

"Is that a threat?"

"Furyan's don't make threats." He could take that any way he wanted. She knew she had made her point. "I trust we have come to an understanding?"

He was clearly not pleased with the way things had gone, yet he knew they, the Council, had little leeway when it came to Furya. The Furyan people were owed a great debt by a great many worlds even if most of them had no idea of the matter. "We have," he grudgingly agreed. "How long will you be with us? Might we offer you accommodations?"

"That all depends on Riddick, where ever it is he may be."

"I believe he is with Aereon. I will have someone show you the way."

At some silent signal she did not hear, two more elementals appeared to escort her to Aereon and Riddick.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Cathy, Linda, thank you for your constant support. One Love

CofF93, glad to see you are still with us. Masala has been fun. :)

Jade, I hope you are not expecting a Jack/Riddick pairing. It won't happen here.

* * *

Aereon greeted Masala at her doorway, welcoming the Furyan woman into her home. "Please, come in, Blade of Furya. You, like Riddick, are welcome here anytime."

"Aereon," Masala greeted as she stepped into the air elemental's home. "Voice of prophecy. Voice of doom."

"I suppose I have earned that," Aereon said. "Especially from one who remembers Furya as it was. Have you and the Council come to an agreement?"

"More of an understanding that I don't trust them, and, therefore, neither does Furya. Is he here still?"

"Yes. Tell me, what is it between the two of you?"

Masala slowly turned and looked at Aereon with a suspicious eye. "We have a business arrangement."

"You seem to function as a unit, as partners," the elemental remarked.

The Furyan woman could practically hear the white haired woman calculating. She knew it was their nature but would not feed it. "It's good business."

Aereon took a calculated risk with her next question, emphasizing with her tone that there was something more. "Only business?"

Masala gave her a measuring look, seeing underneath the calculations a hint of something else. "Tell me, Aereon, do you ever regret your decision to speak of the prophecy to Zhylaw?"

The scheming dropped away completely from her features leaving only an older woman who had seen much. "Yes, Masala, I have and I do."

Masala had made calculations of her own. While she had not alienated the elementals' council, she had put them on notice. Ferrous and the other fires understood Furyans the best as they had similar natures, yet it was not enough to engender a feeling of kinship. She needed an ally among them, and who better than the giver of prophecy herself and one who might feel that she had a debt to repay. "Enough to turn your calculations towards seeing Furya rise again?"

Aereon gave a small smile that recognized and acknowledged precisely what it was that she was being asked. It was another unexpected find yet this one she knew what to do with. "I already have."

Masala nodded at that. She had suspected as much. "Then to your previous question. He is of us but not one of us. It can be nothing more. You will need to turn your calculations in another direction."

"I see."

"Be sure that you do."

Masala would not deny the bond that existed between her and Riddick, whatever its origin. They did function as a unit, as if they had worked together for many years. Whether it was because they were Furyan or Alphas or simply kindred spirits, it did not matter. They had an instinctive understanding of one another. It was good, for they traveled the same path; a path wrought with many dangers and traps. Yet, she also knew that their paths would one day diverge. She was sworn to serve Furya; he had no such commitments nor was he ever likely to.

Aereon watched Masala's expression for a moment longer before saying, "Riddick is this way."

Masala took note of her surroundings as Aereon led her through her home. Everything lent itself to a feeling of being aloft, airborne and surrounded by the wind. She mused that it was appropriate considering it was the home of an air elemental. It was a sitting room to which Aereon led her. Riddick stood out on the balcony apparently looking down over the elementals' capital. She came up beside him silently and leaned on the railing, her eyes taking in the view. Like every city she had known, it looked peaceful from far above.

Though he showed no emotion it seemed to her that he was brooding. As she stood there next to him there was something she wanted to do, something every fiber of her being cried out for. Her training and her dogged realism would not allow it. As she had told Aereon, it could be nothing more. She must content herself with what was, and so she said, "Amazing how distance can alter one's perception. Makes everything seem almost benign."

* * *

Riddick knew she was there before Aereon even opened the door. He had caught her scent on the ever present eddies of wind as well as seen her form in the pathway below. He did not know if she was a welcome interruption or not. His thoughts kept returning to what Aereon had found and what it meant. Despite his preoccupation, he heard their conversation.

_He is of us but not one of us..._The crease between his brows deepened. He could not deny the truth of her words, but it struck a nerve. He did not belong; he had never belonged...anywhere. He was always set apart, different from those around him, until he met her.

_It can be nothing more..._He had had a chance at a family, sort of, with Jack. Jack adored him, looked up to him, did not care that was an escaped convict and murderer. But he had had mercs on his neck, always would. His was a life always on the move, on the run, constantly looking out for the merc looking for the big payday. That was no kind of life for the kid. So he left, left Jack behind for her own good, to protect her. _Lot of fucking good it did._

She did not listen, did not stay with Imam where it had been safe, became a convict herself. Now she was dead, having sacrificed herself for him like Carolyn had. Once again he asked himself if what he did had made a difference, if he had made the wrong choice. He wondered if she would still be alive if he had chosen to keep them together instead. His thoughts chased each other in this vicious circle that could never be answered as Masala came to stand by him.

He did not acknowledge her arrival, knew that she did not expect him to. He did shift just enough to be able to see her face. He did not believe that Masala would sacrifice herself for him, for Furya, yes, but not for him. That suited him just fine. He preferred the blood on his hands to be of his own doing.

His introspection was deep enough that he missed half of what she had said. It might have been something vague and noncommittal about the view. He did recognize it for what it was; her way of saying "we can talk or not, your choice". The time in which a response might be made came and went, lapsing into a longer silence, long enough that an answer would be pointless.

* * *

Aereon help her place at the entrance to the room, taking the opportunity to observe the two Furyans. They both had their backs to her. She thought perhaps it was a much a matter of trust in her as it was their confidence in their capability to defend themselves. In either case, it was a tacit acknowledgement that she posed no threat to them in any way.

Her curiosity kept her in place longer than was polite. She saw Masala go to stand by Riddick, close but not too close, leaving no chance for a wayward touch to occur. They did not verbally greet each other but there was a subtle acknowledgment in their body language. The tiniest bit of relaxation occured in both. Seeing them together like this, she could practically feel the bond between them, more apparent now than it had been when they disembarked.

Finally she turned and flowed away, letting the image of them float through her consciousness. Aereon knew Riddick had a great part to play in all their futures as did Furya. Now there was this Masala, a woman of Furya. She had not seen her in any visions, but then she had not seen Riddick either. It had only been the words of her own prophecy and the instinctive insight of a holy man that had led her to him originally.

Then there was the box, another conundrum. And in the midst of these intersecting arcs and circles of past, present and future was one air elemental. By choice she no longer sat on the Council. She had felt her path pulling her in another direction. She did not know where it would lead, only that she needed to be able to come and go at will and serving on the Council would abrogate that.

In her musings, she had made a complete circuit of the lower level of her home and once again stood watching the Furyans. There was one thing she was certain of...Wherever her path might eventually lead, the next part lay with these two. She knew she must go with them when they left. Now she would only need to figure out a way to convince them to take her with them. Knowing Furyans, it was a thing much easier said than done.

* * *

Riddick knew Aereon kept returning to watch them; he was sure Masala knew it as well. He supposed it was understandable. Furyans were a breed apart. Among the times she came to observe, the elemental did refresh the food and drink at the table. Masala quietly thanked her, in a manner he had once seen used among those of status. He smirked at that. She and he had many similarities but they had many differences as well. He could see that she would move easily through any social circle. It could very well be explained by her profession, but the natural, instinctive way she did it spoke of something learned from her earliest days.

That led him to another thought. The story she relayed about her daughter. There were large pieces missing, and it was bothering Riddick. He had seen her take out those four mercs with hardly any effort at all. He really had no right to ask, and usually was disinclined to pry or ask questions that could be construed as interest on his part. Yet, for some reason, this was something he had to know.

He turned to face her and began, "Masala, about your daughter…"

She did not look over, only continued to gaze out over the elemental city. "You're wondering how they managed to take her from me."

"Yes."

"Traditionally, Furyan women would return home to have their children as pregnancy is a very vulnerable time for us, more so than other women. As the purge had already happened, and Furya laid to waste, I could not. The Guild had no one to spare, but between Mattias and a friend of ours, we thought we would be okay. I was near term when they struck. Mattias was away out of necessity. I could not defend myself, I could hardly get out of bed without assistance. Our friend did what she could, but she was no Furyan. She was killed, and then they cut Aquilla from my womb and left me for dead."

Now she did face him, a plethorea of emotions briefly flitting through her gaze before she continued. "If Mattias had been delayed on his return, I would have died. As it was, I was only a hand's breath away. When he found me, he had to choose between following those who took our daughter or saving me. As I was already named his successor, and he was sworn to put Furya before all others, he really had no choice. I would have preferred him to find Aquilla even if it meant my death."

His lips pressed together as he considered her story, a story told dispassionately. Finally he asked, "What was the name of the ship that crashed?"

"The Hunter-Gratzner."

"I suspected as much."

Her brows drew together. "What do you mean, Riddick?"

"I was on that ship," he explained. "Three of us made it off that planet: me, a holy man, and a kid, a girl masquerading as a boy."

"This girl, what happened to her? Where is she now?" she demanded.

He straightened and held out a hand. "I have something to show you."

She cocked her head to the side in question but took his hand, following where he led.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Linda and Cathy, as always, thank you. You two keep me going in many ways.

Jade, I think you'll like what they found. ;)

Welcome, MorganBabysGirl and Silver Dog Demon. I hope you enjoy the journey.

ChildofFury93, keep concentrating on school. We'll be here for awhile.

* * *

Riddick was quiet as he led Masala through Aereon's home, of itself not an unusual thing. There was, however, an odd tension about him. She felt it in his grip and in the pulse that continually passed between them. It felt almost like a nervousness, and that made her distinctly uncomfortable. Without thinking about it, she squeezed his hand briefly.

It was in that moment he realized he still held her hand. He stopped to look down at her, his face stoic and eyes ever hidden, a memory of the last time he had held another's hand flashing by. It had been Carolyn, who held to Jack who held to Imam; the four of them racing through the rain and the night towards a skiff and the promise of escape. For three of them, it had been.

He was not sure about this idea he had. That bothered him, and, for one of the rare times in his life, he wanted another's opinion. He would die before he asked Aereon or any of her kind. But Masala...she might just understand, or at least have something to say that might offer ...He did not know what.

Her voice broke through his reverie. "Riddick?"

He dropped her hand, and she let it fall to her side. There was a twitch in his jaw as he turned and reached into a pocket to pull out the key. The locked door was only a step away. He crossed that step and unlocked the door. She spoke again as he put his hand to the door and pushed it open.

"Riddick, how many survived the crash?"

There was the barest hint of a pause as he entered the room. "I told you already."

She followed his steps into the room but did not forestall her question. She had a intuition that he had more to tell her but would only do so if prompted, if asked the right questions. "No, you said three of you got off that planet. Not three survived the crash. How many survived?"

"Eleven," he answered finally then corrected, "no twelve." He sometimes forgot the one Zeke killed thinking it was him.

It was still dark within the confines of the room, leaving only shadows inhabited by deeper shadows. Masala moved to the side to allow in light from the open door. It reflected off Riddick's skin and the shiny black box he leaned on, hands caressing the surface. The sight of the box garnered her complete attention and an eyebrow rose. Her eyes swept the the length of the box then came to rest on Riddick.

"Tell me, Riddick," she said, walking over to stand facing him across the box. "Tell me what happened, and what it has to do with...this."

Riddick lifted his hand, pulled off his goggles and directed his silvery gaze at Masala. His deep voice was quiet and controlled as he told her about the ill-fated Hunter-Gratzner. He told her all of it from the crash to the final mad dash to the skiff. "Trip started out with three crew, forty odd passengers...When night fell the creatures came out...The fake badge wanted to cut her up for bait. I used him instead...Jack said 'Never had a doubt'...we ran for the skiff...Carolyn came back for me, don't know why..."

His story did not end there as he told her of the merc ship that had run across them and pulled the skiff aboard. And through it all his words always returned to Jack, the girl pretending to be a boy. "That crazy bitch Chillingsworth and her statues...fucking Shrill...Toombs...Jack shot her...That was her first kill...Helion Prime...Left her there with Imam to protect her...Went to ground on UV6..."

He bowed his head briefly before beginning part of the tale that would end with him becoming the Necromonger Lord Marshall. Jack once again figured largely in his story. "Toombs again...Aereon talked about Furyans...Imam said Jack went looking for me, killed people, got sent to slam...the Necros came...I killed the one who killed Imam...Toombs gave me a ride to Crematoria. She was there, called herself Kyra...She left with the Necros. I followed...Killed Zhylaw." He did not offer the details of that final battle. There something more to be asked and said.

She had watched his face through the telling, seeing things she suspected he never let anyone see. She understood that. It was safer that way, especially with the kind of life he lived, both for him and for anyone else. And she wondered if he realized the depth of the trust he was giving her.

"You know what this is?" he asked, tapping a finger on the lid.

"It looks like a space coffin," she answered.

He nodded. "It is...I don't know that there weren't other kids on that ship, other kids that were girls, but I don't think so. I think Jack...Kyra was your daughter."

She knew the question to ask and was conflicted about doing so, both wanting and not wanting to know, suspecting she already did. "And where is Kyra now?"

"She is here."

A hand dipped out of sight, and the sound of latches disengaging seemed over loud in the dark room. With hardly any effort he pushed the lid aside. His eyes dipped down, and Masala's gaze followed. Nestled there among pale green satin lay a young woman, for all appearances only sleeping if not for the absence of the rise and fall of breath.

"She was killed by Zhylaw after she struck him to save me," he said, rough emotion seeping into his words.

"_She_ was why you killed Zhylaw. You went back for _her_."

"Yes." _Are you with me, Kyra. I was always with you, Riddick._

Masasla's brows drew together. She was missing something, there was some connection she was not making. "The coffin's equipped with a stasis unit?"

"No."

She looked up at him, down to the girl and back up to him. "But...that was over five years ago, and she's not..."

He did not raise his eyes, only kept looking at Kyra. "I know."

Masala held tightly to the sides her fingertips just brushing the satin. She stared hard at the prone figure that was untouched by decay, trying to see a resemblance with herself or Mattias. She thought she did, but after so many years of searching it could just be her imagination. But Riddick, he had known her, had known Jack become Kyra. He thought so. _Is it really possible? Is this really my Aquilla? _Then she saw something else. "What are those marks on her neck?"

"Necro conversion marks."

Her head whipped up. "She was converted?"

"It didn't take."

"It is said only Furyans were ever able to resist..." Masala suggested, her voice trailing off as she followed the flow of thoughts, eyes dropping back down to Kyra once more. _She could be mine...Perhaps it took a little, and that is why...The chance of her being mine is remote, yet the for her to be Furyan and not mine even more so. It must be. And for her to still be whole after all this time...perhaps she could be brought back..._A dozen whispers seemed to suddenly sound through her mind, all echoing one phrase: _The Lord Marshall could._

When she looked up she saw that he had been watching her and waiting for what she would say. She reached her hand across the coffin, touching her fingertips to the back of his hand. "Riddick, bring her back to me, let me know my child. Do this for me, and anything that is in my power to give you, you will have."

He flipped his hand over and caught her fingers. "Anything?"

That one word was colored with a plethora of nuance yet she did not hesitate in her answer or try to withdraw her hand. "Anything."

He released his hold on her and pulled the lid back into place. "Let's go see the Necros."

* * *

Aereon returned to her sitting room hoping to observe the pair of Furyans once more only to find them gone. She briefly wondered if they had returned to their ship, and if she had missed her chance to leave with them. She would know if she checked the locked room. The only door in her home that had ever been locked.

Carried by her easy glide, she came upon that door, yet it stood open. She recognized the timbre of Riddick's deep voice but not the emotion it held, at least not from him, as she heard his story. She stopped short of the open doorway so not to disturb with her presence, but close enough to listen still.

Her hand flew to her mouth at Masala's plea to Riddick then it dawned on her. _Of course, it only makes sense. It is why their destinies are inextricably twined. Furya does figure largely in our future. They will once again be our salvation..._

* * *

"We'll need a hand truck or hoverlift to get this down to the ship," Masasla commented.

But Riddick was paying her no heed. Instead he looked out the doorway, head tilted as if listening. She turned her attention in the same direction. _Ah._

"Is your curiosity satisfied, Aereon?" he asked.

Aereon jumped a little, his voice startling her with its volume. Knowing she was discovered she went to the doorway. She leaned against the frame. "Take me with you."

Masala looked over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. _What is that woman up to now?_ "Why?"

"Because it would be simpler and easier than trying to follow you."

Masala looked back to Riddick who just shrugged. She turned around to fully face Aereon. "Simpler and easier for who?"

"All of us," Aereon replied and quickly continued at Masala's expression. "You will not have to wonder who might be trailing you, and I will not have to worry about you shooting first and asking questions after."

"In other words, you mean to go where we do regardless?"

"Yes."

"What do you think, Riddick? It's _your _ship after all."

"She gets in the fucking way, we ghost her," he answered.

Masala's smile was not pleasant as she turned back to the coffin and Riddick. "Works for me."

Knowing that was all the warning of departure she would have from them, Aereon quickly left to make the few arrangements that needed doing. As she vanished from the doorway, Riddick activated repulsors on the coffin, and it lifted from the dais. He kept a hand on the controls as he maneuvered it clear and turned them up to near full strength. It floated near to waist high on him.

Masala nodded to herself knowingly. _He didn't want anyone else handling her._ "May I help?"

He lowered his goggles and nodded.

It was an odd small procession that moved through the elemental city. Two Furyans, solemnly and without speech, escorted a black metal coffin through the streets and pathways. An air elemental followed several steps behind them, carrying a small satchel. Whether it was their foreboding presence or Aereon's having sent word ahead, the denizens of the city made way for them, some even offering gestures of sympathy and respect.

Riddick and Masala acknowledged no one, only made their way to and on board his waiting ship. Aereon slipped aboard as they settled Kyra into one of the empty cabins. Without fanfare or further ado, the small vessel lifted off from Quintessa with the only two known living Furyans.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Cathy, Linda, as always, thank you for keeping the Faith ;)

SilverDogDemon: thank you, more comes

Critic Review: yes, we have a need for more Furyans, but they must be sought out

and to my silent Readers: thank you as well.

* * *

And so it was that the Lord Marshall returned to the Necromongers bringing with him an elemental they knew and an adult female breeder they did not. He also had with him a long, shiny black box that looked suspiciously familiar to at least one. Riddick and Masala disembarked together, Kyra's coffin between them, Aereon once again trailing behind. A familiar visage waited for them in the hangar bay. For reasons unbeknownst even to himself, Vaako had remained loyal to Lord Marshall Riddick, a fact that vexed his ambitious wife to no end.

"Your wife hasn't driven you to mutiny yet, Vaako?" Riddick said by way of greeting.

Vaako stared at him, trying to decide if Riddick was expecting a serious answer or not. He played it safe. "Obedience without question. Loyalty til underverse come, Lord Marshall."

"Good, we make for the Threshold."

Vaako almost sighed in relief. Riddick was finally going to make the pilgrimage, traditionally the first order of business for any Lord Marshall. Much to the Necros consternation, Riddick was as far from traditional as one could be. "I will see that we get under way."

"Do that, Vaako."

As Riddick and entourage made to move past, Vakko cleared his throat and asked, "And what...accommodations...for your... guests, my Lord?"

"Make a suite available for Aereon," Riddick said, then took great care with the next pronouncement. "The Furyan Ambassador will stay with me."

To her credit, Masala did not react except for the twitch of an eyebrow, though Riddick was sure she would have something to say later. It was something they had not discussed, a spur of the moment decision on his part. Vaako, on the other hand, was a different story.

"Yes, my Lord," Vaako replied automatically, then Riddick's words sunk in. _Furyan? Ambassador? _His head swiveled in her direction.

For the first time, Vaako closely inspected the female breeder that had arrived with Riddick. She would definitely stand out among the Necro women as much as the elemental did. She did not flinch or quail under his regard, instead she matched it. She wore several visible weapons and stood with a warrior's confidence. Her expression gave away nothing, and her eyes glinted with the same silvery light that Riddick's did. Vaako had a bad feeling creeping up from the pit of his stomach. There would be trouble.

Necromongers did not entertain in any politic way, which also left Vaako at a bit of a loss as to what to do regarding her. Riddick did not seem to be treating her as a consort despite saying she would stay with him. He searched his memories as far back as he could and finally settled on a short nod of his head, and greeted, "Ambassador."

"Vaako," she returned evenly.

The elemental was a simpler matter, and he chose to address that. "Follow me, Aereon."

As Aereon turned to follow Vaako, Riddick continued on his course, Masala keeping pace with him on the other side of the coffin. She held her peace as they traversed the Necro ship. The Necros bowed as Riddick walked past, but their eyes kept being drawn to the coffin and the openly armed woman with him. Whispsers and conjecture followed in their wake, and Furyan was an oft repeated word. Though she stayed alert for any action against them, a small smile played about her lips. She had not forgotten her promise to her family. Nothing flew faster through an army than rumor; perhaps the rumor would bring the Betrayer to her.

Once inside the relative privacy of the Lord Marshall's suite, she asked, "What _is_ Vaako?"

"My First."

"First what?"

"I have no fucking idea."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Fucking figures. Were you trying to give him a stroke with that Furyan Ambassador bit?"

"Could have said assassin," he suggested with a shrug.

"Speaking of..." She began to move through the rooms, closely inspecting the walls, duct work and any place there might be an opening or hidden access.

Riddick followed and watched her work, for that was what she was doing, checking all the things and places she would use in her professional capacity. He watched as she would pause and recheck some areas, her fingers lightly tapping. Sometimes she would close her eyes and cock her head to listen to only she knew what. She moved with a predatory, stalking grace which he found alluring. He tamped down on the rising growl and began to rethink his decision on the accommodations.

Masala was quite aware of his observation as she investigated all the potential access points, person sized or not. She had always known when someone was watching her, but with him it was different, more intense and welcome in an unsettling way. As she made a circuit of the last room, the energy in the air changed and she looked over, meeting his eyes across the expanse of the bed. She was entranced by his gaze, recognized the conflict there, felt it reflected in herself. With much effort she spoke only of what she had found.

"I would need to see schematics to be sure, but there are passageways behind the walls," she began, voice a touch husky. "May be as innocuous as utility runs, may not. Necros don't seem the type to bother with escape routes..."

"They're not. Not the type to employ assassins either," he said, then added in a derisive tone, "no honor in it."

"Doesn't mean they wouldn't try to weaken a opponent before openly challenging him. Assassins don't always kill. In any case, where can I access the plans?"

"The viewing table in there," Riddick indicated another room then headed for it.

Masala waited a moment before following him. A small bit of tension left her shoulders as she left the bedroom. He was bringing up the information she had asked about when she entered the other room. A three dimensional representation of the Basilica appeared above the table. He had it zooming in to the area in question as she came to stand by him.

"Marvelous," she breathed, clearly thrilled by the technology.

A rare smile creased his face.

"The controls are here. This is how they work," he said as he angled himself so that she could see what he was doing. Then he stepped back and waved her forward. "Take her for a spin."

She slid into the spot he had just vacated and quickly had basic mastery of the controls. She narrowed the field down to just the room the stood in then expanded it from there bit by bit. "How do I bring up measurements?"

He reached over her to activate it. The movement brought them into the closest proximity they had been in since before reaching Geundir. The low light reflected from her hair and skin, and he was entranced by it. His animal took over, and he dipped his head down and was scenting her neck, a growl rumbling up from deep in his chest.

His scent poured over her, and caused something deep inside to stir. She caught herself inhaling deeply and realized he was sniffing her neck. His growl vibrated through her. Through sheer force of will she fought the instinct to respond and held perfectly still. Her heart beat rapidly and sweat stood out on her brow. She choked out, "Damn it, Riddick. Back the fuck off."

"Why do you fight it?" his voice barely a raw whisper but sounding loud so close to her ear. "Give in to the animal."

Her animal was clawing to get out, and she replied with difficulty, "No."

"Why?" he insisted, the word seductive.

There were many things she could say, but the final truth of it was the one that loomed the largest. If she gave in she would want to be by his side, always, and that could never be. Her chin tilted, just enough for them to see eye to eye. So quietly as to have almost no sound she answered, "It would make the parting that much harder."

He thought maybe if he pushed it a little more, she would give in, but he did not want it like that. Instead he growled again, this time in frustration, and pushed away from the table to stalk about the room. She had formidable will to withstand the pull. A part of him wished she did not, yet it was part of what made her so attractive. He glanced over to where she stood; she had closed her eyes, and he took the opportunity to study her once again. He lived on the edge and in the moment. She did not; she thought of the future. He wondered what it would be like, to be dedicated like that to something beyond one's self. _She is everything I am and everything I'm not._

When he stalked away, part of her sighed in relief. The other part, the animal, screamed in frustration. She had almost broken, almost given in. If he had persisted a bit longer, she would have. She shut her eyes tight so she could not see him. She could still smell him and hear his movements. An internal battle raged. _No, I will not. I must not. He is our opposite and our equal. I cannot. I want to. Why not a small something for ourselves with all we have lost?_

The dual nature of every Furyan was both a blessing and a curse, and sometimes the animal won. Masala opened her eyes and sought him out. She found him standing on the far side of the room, his mercurial gaze on her. "Riddick, I…"

Whatever she was going to say was forestalled by the tone of the door announcer. He let out another frustrated growl and left the room. _Saved by the bell? _Masala clamped down on her inner betrayals before following him out and going to stand by Kyra's coffin.

"What?" Riddick snarled as he answered the door.

Vaako took a quick step back and bowed slightly. "My apologies, Lord Marshall, I had the mid-day meal brought to you. I thought you might want to discuss that state of the Armada while we are enroute to the Threshold."

She observed the interaction between Riddick and Vaako and the way Vaako's eyes kept darting to the coffin and her. Riddick did not miss it either. He moved away from the door and waved Vaako into the suite. Vaako's entrance was preceded by servants who deposited large covered trays and quickly departed.

As the door closed on the servants, Riddick seated himself at the table, insolently put his feet up and asked, "What about the Armada, Vaako?"

Masala did not wait for an invitation before claiming a seat for herself. She was Furya now, the earlier conflict subsumed by her devotion to duty. She pulled a dagger and speared some meat. She did not take her eyes from Vaako as she bit into it. Vaako pretended not to notice.

"Certainly my Lord noticed that the Armada is not at the strength it was when you left?"

Riddick gave a non-committal shrug. He wanted to see what Vaako would say, how he would say it.

"We have lost half the Armada, my Lord."

An eyebrow quirked up, and still he said nothing.

Vaako shifted uncomfortably. "Some through attrition, others were...faithless."

"Faithless?" Riddick repeated. "That's an odd word...don't you think, Ambassador?"

Masala smiled evilly. "It seems not even the Necros are above mutiny. How many and where did they go?"

Confusion was written on Vaako's face. Riddick was letting _her_ do the asking, and he obviously expected Vaako to answer her. He feared if this got out more would question their faith. It would never pass his lips, but others could be listening. He could not help his eyes darting about the room, pausing minutely at the places there might be listeners.

"There's no one there, but I haven't checked for mechanicals," Masala told him.

That bad feeling that had crept over Vaako earlier grew worse. He knew without a doubt that the Faith would never be the same.

And as if to add salt to the wound, she added, "And I will kill anyone who questions the Lord Marshall."

Vaako suddenly wished the Purifier were still alive. Of course, Vaako had no idea the man had also been a Furyan. He looked back and forth between Riddick and Masala, swallowed, then said, "Forty-eight percent. It is thought they were headed for the Threshold."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: it's taken a bit longer for this chapter than the others as life happened.

* * *

Vaako had not missed the interaction between Riddick and Masala and the near unity of their thought process despite the odd tension in the room. They seemed to communicate without a word being said. They had asked him question after question with methodical precision, drawing out information he did not even know he had.

They had him operate the viewing table, showing them precisely what constituted the remaining Armada. They wanted to know the strengths and weaknesses of each type of ship. He had begun to protest that Necro ships were impregnable but subsided at the piercing glances Riddick and Masala threw him. Standard Necro procedures and attacks were detailed as well as troop strength.

After that Riddick asked about the commanders, who they were and Vaako's opinion of them. Here Masala had fallen silent, leaving the questioning to Riddick, yet observing every nuance of Vaako's body language and tone. Her close scrutiny made him decidedly uncomfortable.

The information gathering had taken hours. Vaako felt unusually spent and drained. He had been interrogated, there was no other word for it. Yet during this interrogation Vaako learned something that surprised him. He had known Riddick was a phenomenal fighter. He had seen it first hand when Riddick had defeated Irgun, almost effortlessly, before the previous Lord Marshall. Then there was his escape from the Grotto of the quasi-deads. And there was Crematoria, where Riddick had single-handedly taken out twenty of his men.

Now he knew the Lord Marshal was a superb tactician. The thought gave him a small measure of comfort. It was this he was concentrating on as he was accosted by Dame Vaako as he returned to his quarters.

"Is is true, Lord Vaako?" she hissed.

Their relationship had deteriorated mightily since his refusal to join the mutiny. The only reason she had not moved out was to avoid the loss of face it would cause. She was mocked among the other women but never to her face. She still had a measure of power and had been known to eliminate enemies before their due time.

"Is what true, Dame Vaako?"

She paced about him, waves of irritation coming off of her. "That he returned with that elemental witch and another breeder, too. One he called Furyan."

"It is true. What is it to you, wife?"

"The Faithful will not stand for another breeder ruling over us."

He looked over at his wife with a cautionary expression. "You would do well to be cautious with both your words and actions with this one, Dame Vaako. She will not fall as easily or quickly as the others if she falls at all."

"You like her." The accusation was flung with much venom.

"No. No, I do not," he answered with a shake of his head, wondering a bit at her display of jealousy. "I would rather she were not here. She is...disconcerting."

"A mere breeder disconcerting?"

At that he had to smile though it had no mirth. "She is as much of a mere breeder as is the Lord Marshall."

That point hit home, and she changed tactics. "So where is our esteemed Lord Marshall taking us now?"

"As if you don't already know, we head for the Threshold."

"To rejoin the rest of the Armada?" she asked, uncharacteristically eager.

He turned towards her, suspicious. "And, why, Dame Vaako, would _that_ interest you?"

"When we rejoin the Armada, we can go back to conquering worlds instead or begging for converts," she explained, a bit too smoothly.

Lord Riddick had not expressly forbidden conquering for converts, but he had also not actively pursued it. The Necro mantra of obedience without question left little room for independent thought or action. The one order Riddick had given had moved the fleet away from any inhabited worlds, and new converts were only those that purposely sought out the Necromongers. And those were few and far between.

Frowning, his dark eyes bored into his wife as if by the practice he could see the thoughts playing through her mind. To say she was up to something would be disingenuous. She was always up to something; plotting was a way of life for Dame Vaako, and it was something she excelled at. Now he just had to figure out if this was a new scheme or something she had been working since before the split of the Armada. In either case, he would need to tell the Lord Marshall, although what he would tell him he had no idea.

"Leave me out of your schemes, wife."

She sneered. "Of that you can be assured, husband."

Frustrated and knowing he would have no peace any place his wife might be, he stalked from his quarters to roam about the ship. It would be simpler to kill her, yet he stayed his hand through some twisted sense of devotion or duty, which he did not know. She had blackened his mood, and the fact radiated from him. No one tried to draw his attention.

* * *

After Vaako's departure, Riddick and Masala stood around the viewing table discussing potential strategies. Though she actively engaged in the conversation, putting forth her thoughts and ideas, she seemed to be withdrawing. The change did not escape Riddick. They had looked at the coming conflict from every angle and had started to reiterate things said before.

Riddick banished the images from the viewing table and leaned his massive frame on it. He watched as Masala paced the length of the table. As she came opposite him, he asked, "What?"

She stopped and turned towards him, lips pursed. "I find myself in the untenable position of being jealous of the Necromongers."

Whatever Riddick might have expected, it was not that. "You don't strike me as the jealous type."

"If there had been more of us when you arrived on Furya, would you still have said no to Shirah? To the leadership of Furya?"

"Yes."

"I thought as much, hence my jealousy." She did not so much as look at Riddick as much as through him, remembering her ruined homeworld.

"You could lead Furya to such greatness," she continued in a voice laced with regret. "Instead you command our mortal enemies..."

Anger rose in him at her words. "I do this for Kyra, for you."

She focused on him then, and when she spoke again the regret was gone replaced by ice. "Not for me, but whatever it is you want of me."

He was over and across the table in a heartbeat, trapping her with a hand pressed to the wall on either side of her head. Her face lined with defiance as she stilled her hand from her blade. She would not take Furya's hope from them. He leaned in close, his nose less than an inch from hers, his breath warm on her face. The two Alpha's were squaring off. They did not circle as before, only stared each other down. Bloodshed and destruction or something equally as volatile seemed imminent.

"It's not my fight," he growled.

"But it is mine," she growled back.

"Then you lead them."

"I cannot."

"Why? You were born to it, trained for it. Tell me I'm wrong," he pressed. Vaako was not the only one who had learned something during the interrogation.

"It is so," she grudgingly admitted.

"Can't? More like won't. You're too afraid," he taunted.

"I fear nothing," she spat.

Riddick was not going to back off, not this time. She had to be made to see it. "That's bullshit, and you fucking know it. Prove me wrong. Lead your people into the future."

"Our people," she corrected.

His voice dropped into that deep deadly rumble as he threw her words back at her. "No. You yourself said I am not one of you."

She recognized it for the slap in the face it was meant to be. "You could be."

He let out a derisive snort, twisted the blade in a little further. "Why would I want to be? Furyans are nothing more than a bunch half baked mystics playing at being warriors."

That hit home. He saw it in flare of anger in her eyes, the aborted flinch, and he pressed his advantage, being purposefully cruel. "Furyans couldn't even protect their children from a fanatical lunatic, not even you, the great assassin, could stop some dumb ass mercs from taking her kid."

She stiffened, and he smiled mockingly. "You're not even worth the bother of converting. No wonder Zhylaw killed most of you."

Masala reacted despite the fact she knew she was being baited. If it was a fight he was after, she would oblige. "You smug son of a bitch. Don't you talk to me about people dieing. No one's ever died for me. How many have sacrificed themselves for you?"

Her aim had been true as well, and his jaw clenched. "You want to be very careful what you say next."

"Why? You gonna get shiv happy on my ass and ghost me? Fuck you. I'd like to see you try."


	19. Chapter 19

He stared down into her slightly upturned face for long moments. There was absolutely no fear there, only a fierce determination. She was ready and waiting for him to make the first move. She was like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap. She reminded him of someone. He brought his hand up to his face, fingertips tracing a paper thin scar most did not notice. He pushed off of the wall with his other hand, pushing away from her.

"She must be your daughter," he growled as he stalked away.

When she followed him out a minute later, she found him leaning over the coffin, the lid pushed aside. She halted her movement and watched him there as he stared down into the still face of the girl. Even if this were the child of her loins that she had lost, the girl would always be his. Even though she was, for all intents and purposes, dead, every line of his body showed both possessiveness and protection.

Masala came to stand across from him, her eyes drawn to the girl as well. She was the one thing that united their purpose, their paths. She wondered, if he were successful in bringing her back, would the girl still unite them or would she divide them.

* * *

Unlike her last visit aboard this ship, Aeron was not a prisoner. She wore no chains and her movements were not restricted, at least not by the Necros. Vaako had assigned a pair of guards to her chambers, ones he trusted absolutely. When she had archly asked if they were there for her protection, he had replied with a yes then added an "as well as ours".

She had tested out his response by touring the ship. The guards trailed half a step behind her wherever she went and made no move to prevent her entering from what might be considered sensitive areas of the ship. She used the freedom of movement to observe what remained of the Necromonger Empire. The eddies of time and space and life flowed differently among them than it had before. Many flowed at odds with each other and the calculations that were the habit of every Elemental were more complex than ever.

Yet still, there were places where her calculations failed. Where the threads she followed disappeared or, perhaps, merely merged into a confounding morass. Primarily, those threads were the ones concerning Riddick and those who surrounded him: Masala, Kyra, Vaako and even Aereon herself. Her own future was muddled beyond comprehension, with an exponential amount of possibilities each with the exact same chance of occurring as the others. What made matters worse is that she could not judge which might be best or even what she might be able to affect to give any single path higher odds of success than the others.

The uncertainty was disconcerting and weighed heavily upon her mind. Back on Quintessa she would follow the eddies of the wind through the streets of the capital for hours on end as she tried to grasp the enormous calculations the girl's discovery had warranted. Here on the Basilica there was no natural wind, only the flows from the air handlers that circulated and scrubbed the ship's atmosphere. She paced in her assigned quarters, frustrated by a complexity she had never in all her many, many years ever seen.

One of the threads suddenly seemed to glow a bit brighter than the others and she instinctively gravitated towards it. Her feet took her out the door, the guards automatically falling into step. It called to her she thought, knowing full well that it could just as easily be wishful thinking for something solid her mind could grasp. It led her through the twisting turns of the labyrinthine ship, each step taken without pause until, finally, she found its source in an almost unused part of the ship.

Lord Vaako was as surprised to see her as she was him. His brow lowered as an uncharacteristic question formed on his lips. "Did you need something, Aereon?"

"I'm not quite sure, Lord Vaako," she answered, distracted, as her eyes sought something.

His frown deepened. He did not like the precarious position he was in. Lord Marshall Riddick's acension to the throne had changed a great many things, and Vaako felt he had handled most of it fairly well. But Riddick's return with both the Elemental and another Furyan breeder had set off much new plotting and maneuvering, with his own wife quite in the thick of it. The word of a meeting between himself and the Elemental would set off a new round of conspiring even if it was accidental.

"Why did you seek me out?" he wanted to know.

Her piercing eyes turned to him. "I did not, at least not in the way you mean. But it seems the thing I followed has brought me to you, though I do not yet know why."

"You speak in riddles," he accused.

"I follow riddles," she answered then posed a question of her own. "How much do you know of Elementals, Lord Vaako?"

He began to wave a hand as if the question were nonsense then stopped. "Nothing of consequence."

"We calculate the future and try to guide towards the paths that best suit us, even to the giving of prophecy. Many things go into these calculations, the threads of each beings life, the paths of planets around stars and more. Recently we have been unable to see a clear path, and much of that has to do with Riddick. I saw a possibility that was prominent to the others, and it brought me here, to you. Why do you suppose that is?"

This time he did not abort the wave of his hand. It was accompanied by a frustrated growl. "You sound like my wife."

It was not a compliment.

"Ah, yes, Dame Vaako. We met when I was here previously. Her potential futures are clear but do not concern me. Yours, however, are not. Tell me, why is it you stay loyal to Riddick?"

His glance went to her guards. Men he trusted, yet...

"Obedience till Underverse comes," he gave the Necro mantra as the answer. "It is our way."

Aereon had not missed the shift of his eyes. "May we speak in private?"

Another glance to the men, then a nod. He sent them off then looked questioningly at the old woman.

"What is the real reason?" she asked, her voice as soft as a light breeze and nearly as difficult to her.

Vaako's opinion of her rose a notch at the show of discretion, yet he shook his head in answer. When his words finally came out they were spoken with much difficulty. "I do not know. I just know I must."

An eyebrow rose at the confession, and she pushed at the threads with her words. "It is a tenet of Necromonger dogma, yet you do not plot against Riddick as you did Zhylaw. What compels you to follow this path and not the one which your wife tries to lay before you?"

Vaako shook his head once more. This was something he could not put to words. And even if he could, he dare not speak them aloud anywhere. He needed her gone from his presence. She was not the shrill shrew that was Dame Vaako, yet her presence and questions had damaged the bit of calm he had managed to summon.

"You should use caution when you move about the ship, Aereon. There are those among us who are not as tolerant as I am."

With that statement, he turned and strode from the room. His steps were a touch quicker than he would have liked, but he needed distance between himself and Elemental. Perhaps Dame Vaako had been right. They were all witches and mystics...


End file.
